


if i take another step, thorns appear

by cxn



Category: SEVENTEEN (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, Angst, Angst and Humor, Attempt at Humor, China Line - Freeform, Crack, Crack Treated Seriously, Drama, Established Relationship, Fluff and Angst, I'm Bad At Tagging, IMSOEXCITEDILOVETHECHINALINE, M/M, Prom, Slice of Life, art student minghao, asshole minghao, medicine student junhui
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-12-01
Updated: 2018-05-21
Packaged: 2019-02-09 02:58:22
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 31,908
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12878730
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cxn/pseuds/cxn
Summary: Prom is on Saturday. Junhui thinks he might ask Minghao to go with him on Friday afternoon, but it might clash with the ass-whooping Minghao had penciled him in for because Junhui hadn't asked him to prom yet.Minghao thinks he might break Jun's nose for being such a loser of a boyfriend, and he deals with these feelings by saying nothing of the sort to Junhui and instead wreaking havoc on his god-knows-how-long relationship. Because that's how adults dealt with shit, y'know?Soonyoung just wants to go to prom with his crush of 4 years. Chan just wants his friendship group to stop being a weird angst love triangle. Jeonghan wants to blast Twice loud enough to drown Junhui's complaining out, and Seungcheol just wants him to turn it down.Minghao just wants Junhui to love him. Junhui wants Minghao to understand that he does.Getting the two to sort out their problems is like playing bop-it with your feet. Borderline impossible, and uncomfortable for everyone involved.But maybe being the other isn't as easy as they seem to think it is.(or freaky friday, china line style.)





	1. Friday, the day before prom, the day Minghao lives life for pizza and Junhui learns about complementary colours (although he’s still confused)

**Author's Note:**

> [fic playlist](https://open.spotify.com/user/frida.morales/playlist/7rbLK6EXNeOTNnLNe7igOp)

 

It had started before the first lesson of the day had even begun. Minghao’s anger and overthinking was pulled into motion before the first bell had even rang. To be fair, this whole ordeal had started long before that morning, or the night that came before it, or that week altogether. This whole ordeal being Wen Junhui and Xu Minghao. They had been a package deal since what felt like the beginning of time. Truth be told, it could all be traced back to the only other Mandarin speaking boy at primary school. What else were they to do but be friends? Even though their language skills developed over time, they didn’t bring any new friends into the picture. It had always been the two of them. After that, things get a little blurry, old memories get sloppy and it's hard for them both to recall. But things stayed the same way since that first day in primary school, and now to Junhui’s senior year of High School.

The most blurry line of all is when their friendship became more than just a friendship, because it just felt normal to kiss the boy Minghao had spent his whole life with. He feels a little bad for forgetting the details of his first kiss with Junhui, but it was both their firsts and it wasn't all that extravagant. He’s almost sure their braces got caught or something, and that’s when he stops trying to recall.

The origin story feels almost irrelevant, because their relationship is too certain and etched into the stars for it to even have a beginning point. Both boys are more than convinced they were best friends in their past life, and the life before that, and the life before that, because it would take at least 3 whole lifetimes to get as close as they are. It’s like jigsaw pieces, slotting in perfectly and made for eachother. The thought is cheesy and gross, but it doesn't make either dislike it any more.

They’re the only constant in each other's life. It’s such a commodity to have someone at your side, always.

As aforementioned, Minghao was fuming by the time he was slamming the school doors open, more than ready to rip into the first person that dared come too close to him. It had been a lead up of events, building up until he spilled over, and today was that day. It started some time last week, when Junhui cancelled their meetup in favour of staying behind and finishing homework. Which would’ve been fine, if Minghao hadn’t booked work off and not eaten lunch for a week in order to pay for both him and his boyfriend. But it was fine. Sure, every other text Minghao sent got left on read, but it was the first time something like this had happened, so he forgot about it as quickly as he could. After that, Junhui stopped saying good morning to Minghao on text, which sounds petty and gross and cliche, but it's just their thing and it always has been, and it's very fucking disrespectful of Junhui to just throw that away. He tells Minghao that he doesn't have the time anymore, and even though Minghao knows that a text message takes two seconds to send, he believes Junhui. Sometime between then and now, he starts noticing the little things. Noticing, nit-picking, whatever you wanna call it. The dismissive words that greet him when he runs across the entire school building just to walk Junhui to class, the empty seat on his lunch table for the 4th day in a row when Seungcheol and Jeonghan get his presence instead, and the useless nods he gets when they walk past each other, instead of a hello, or a hi. It gets to the point that when he finally does get Junhui to himself, he feels sick, or like he’s going to be sick all over the floor if the silence continues for even a second more. Their conversation lulls, over and over and over. He listens to the radio for longer than he talks to the other boy.

So, fast forward a little. It’s Friday morning, which is horrible enough as it is because Minghao is not a morning person. But today, as he’s walking up to the school he so dearly dreads, he sees Junhui getting out of Wonwoo’s car. Which is more than hilarious, because Minghao knows Junhui is filthy rich and he gets driven to school every morning, no exception. More than that, he knows Junhui knows that if that were to ever change, Minghao’s shitty old Toyota would be at Junhui’s door in under a minute. But that’s never happened. Ever.

You can imagine how much this feels like a stab in the back to Minghao who watches on as the two talk and giggle, like they’re best friends or something. That thought is all it takes. The venom is what drives Minghao to call Junhui’s name and wave, a sign of god knows what. Anger, jealousy, frustration, all of the above? Junhui looks, taken aback at first, and then all the more indifferent, looking away as soon as he realises who it had been.

Fast-forward once again, school doors slamming open, Minghao is walking through the halls like he’ll fight anyone that looks at him. Junhui and Wonwoo are long gone, thank god. He’s really going to be sick, but vomiting all over the white school floor is not going to do him any good, so he sets course for the bathrooms. The lock fumbles but eventually, he’s safe inside one of the cubicles with some peace and quiet. He’s early, so there’s no one else. He’s only early today to finish his art portfolio, which is so overdue he should be getting charged late fees, but his teacher is nice so she lets him work on it before school.

This is when it hits him that for all he knew, Wonwoo and Junhui had been coming to school together for the past year. Junhui had always gotten to school earlier than Minghao, who made sure to spend as little time as he had to there. But he would wait, leaning outside the building all mysterious and hot, never failing to make Minghao’s knees weak. Because even though he had spent every single day of his life with the kid, his jet black hair and honey tinted skin still made Minghao’s stomach do backflips.

But then it was senior year, and Junhui suddenly had a million and one things to do, all of which came before Minghao. So he would study in the mornings, and Minghao would walk into school alone. Yet now it all makes sense, seeing Wonwoo drive him to school. Junhui isn’t cheating on him, that’s for absolute certain, even Minghao knows better than to think that low of him. But he is spending the time that used to be his with Wonwoo, which definitely doesn’t sit right. In fact, his stomach is doing that sick thing again and his breakfast is about to make itself known to the toilet he’s leaning over. And now all these hot tears are hitting porcelain beneath him, but he’s not sobbing or anything. They just fall, emotionless and useless, dripping and dripping until Minghao gets a grip. He just doesn’t understand, and can you blame him? The one thing he had always known seems like he doesn’t know it at all, and it sends an ugly helplessness to the bottom of Minghao’s stomach where it sits heavy.

He has to drag himself out of his stupid misery (and off the bathroom floor) as he hears his phone go off and sees Soonyoung’s picture flash across the screen. Fuck. He so told him that he’d help him with the nose on his portrait sketch he just couldn't get right, and instead here he is on the cold bathroom floor. Well, all the more reason to stop feeling sorry for himself and go do the homework he had planned on.

* * *

“I’m serious Wonwoo, would you help me out?”

“I’m sorry Junhui, I promise I will, I’m just… How did you forget to ask your boyfriend to prom? What is that!”

To be honest, Junhui just appreciates that Wonwoo could stop laughing enough to even get a whole word out, let alone a sentence. But he really doesn’t have an answer for Wonwoo at all. He just laughs along with him, because it really is pathetic to forget to ask your own freaking boyfriend to prom. Which happens to be tomorrow. In all fairness, he does have to sit the MCAT crazy soon, which has kind of become his only priority in life. Missing prom is nothing compared to failing an entrance exam.

Regardless, Junhui is Minghao’s boyfriend, and he should probably really ask him to prom. But the thing is, for as much as his attractive looks may deceive you, Junhui is the most unromantic person to ever roam the earth. Which is where Wonwoo comes in, because it seems he and Mingyu are sweeping each other off their feet every second day. And of course, Wonwoo had asked Mingyu to prom about 50 years ago in the cutest way possible. The whole school was talking about it. Show-off.

“Do you have any ideas?” Wonwoo looks at Junhui as if it’s the most simple thing.

“Of course not, why else would I be here? You better come up with something soon, I don’t really have all day.”

“Dude, just ask him. Doesn’t he hate all that stuff anyway? Better late than never.”

He knows just asking Hao would never cut it, but he’s left it too late and definitely does not have time to hire out a marching band or something big and stupid like that. And Wonwoo is a love guru, so maybe he’s right. He’ll just ask. Easy.

* * *

Minghao sighs so loud it resonates through the entire school building and deadpans like he’s on the office or something, looking into the camera, absolutely ready to jump from the 5th floor. But the cafeteria is serving pizza today, so he thinks twice about it.

“Why didn’t you just say no? It would’ve hurt him less.” Chan runs to keep up with Minghao’s lanky ass legs, which mind you walk considerably faster when they’re angry, and especially so when his best friend asks him to prom before his bestest friend does.

“Chan, I‘ll be honest here. I didn’t even remember prom was tomorrow, okay? That’s the level Junhui is at right now. He hasn’t said a word to me about it. Honestly, he’s married to that fucking biology textbook, or Wonwoo maybe, because I definitely saw them getting out of the same car which sounds ridiculous now that I hear myself saying it but trust me when I say it’s a big deal okay?””

Chan stands dazed in the middle of the hallway before he realises he looks really fucking stupid letting his friend just walk away and he’s running to catch up again. He stutters out at least a novel before the shock wears off and he can calmly clarify if Minghao is really actually serious about a) Junhui not asking him to prom and b) going to prom with someone else.

If anyone would know about what a grade-A dick Junhui is being right now, it’d be Soonyoung and Chan. Minghao really only talks to his two close friends, so he tells everything to the only friends he has. Then again, he’s not an emotional person or anything, so it’s usually just yelling and no explanation. But Chan suspects that Junhui hadn’t asked him yet because he’s still too whipped to’ve not brought it up. Soonyoung had felt it too, and that poor kid has been super madly in love with Minghao since they were Sophomores. Some would argue that the crush started when they were Freshmen, but Chan would like to retain that it was him Soonyoung liked that year, because that’s really all he’s had going for him through his High School career.

Either way, Soonyoung was not going to pass up the opportunity to finally make the move on Minghao that has literally been in the making for 3 years. So of course when Junhui didn’t already ask him, he was more than set on taking Minghao to prom. And who was Chan to stop Soonyoung? He’s a small pure baby, and all he wants is for everyone to be happy. And Junhui still owned Minghao’s ass for sure, so why not just let Soonyoung get it out of his system?

But now Chan’s really gone and done it, because quite clearly Minghao’s ass is up for the taking and it seems Soonyoung is first in line.

“Hey, do you still need that maths homework?” He quickly changes the subject, because he’s not in the mood to get his throat rammed this early in the day. His backpack is already slung across his front, digging around empty soda cans and dead lunches to find the worksheet he knows Minghao didn’t do.

“Fuck, yes. Thank you so much, you’re a lifesaver.” Minghao stops to lean on the wall and jot down Chan’s answers before some moron sees them and plucks up the courage to say something.

“Hao, you know exams are soon. You’re gonna have to start actually paying attention.”

“Yeah yeah Chan, I’ll get my shit together.” They both knew that was the dictionary definition of an empty promise. But Minghao has it set in his heart to become a dancer and that’s really all he cares about. Dancing used to share a #1 spot next to Junhui, but it’s lonely on the throne of his priorities now.

* * *

It had been more than worth it to stay around for lunch. Even though cafeteria pizza is soggy cardboard and plastic cheese, it tastes like a whole slice of heaven to a boy who thinks putting ketchup on 2 minute ramen is fine cuisine. He knowns Junhui gets to lunch later than he and Chan do because his class is on the other side of the building. So he can’t confirm being ditched today, and it’s not time to be angry just yet.

“When Soonyoung gets here, don’t be weird okay? I feel for the kid.” Minghao is just trying to look out for his friend but Chan’s already bouncing his leg and scoffing down lunch, so his hopes aren’t high on the playing-off-being-asked-to-prom and-not-getting-an-answer front.

“Yeah okay, just don’t talk about the fact that you didn’t actually say no and Soonyoung may have just single-handedly torn apart the only relationship that made me believe in love, I can do that.” Chan is involving Minghao in a staring contest he most definitely did not sign up for and he swears to god if his eyes keep getting wider they’ll pop right out of his skull.

“Yeah dude, you’re doing an absolutely awesome job of making us look like morons. Now play it cool.” Soonyoung sets his bright red tray down and sits across from Minghao, not next to. That spot’s reserved for Junhui. Pizza, strawberry milk and a thin-lipped smile like he’s really hoping the earth might swallow him whole before he gets to the crust at the end of the pizza slice. Unfortunately for the three friends, it does not, and their extremely awkward tension persists on through their lunch period.

Minghao really really hates it, but he can’t do anything to stop the way his eyes seem to pan to this boy the second he sets a foot in the room. Everyone shuts the fuck up, or it sounds that way to Minghao, and King Junhui™ walks in, posse trailing behind. His stupid black hair floats up and down with every calculated step he takes. He’s wearing that pale pink hoodie he throws on when he’s running late, but it compliments the gold in his skin so well Minghao has to pick his jaw up off the floor. Every single person is staring right at him, breaths held and eyes waiting. Minghao feels more than lucky to be the person he’s about to sit next to.

For the 5th day in a row, Junhui sits with Jeonghan and Seungcheol. It takes less than 3 seconds for a big stupid mob to form around the “it” couple and their hot as fuck best friend.

Oh joy.

And the worst part of it all is his two friends look at him, waiting for him to start yelling and somehow translating a keyboard smash into real life. Chan looks like he’s sitting in front of a bear who’s really about to eat him whole, and Soonyoung just looks like he’s fallen deeper into the realization about how messy this whole prom thing actually is. Chan’s sentence barely makes it out of his mouth before Minghao is slamming his hands on the table, hard, so hard that the sound their trays make against the metal table is enough to draw the attention away from King Junhui™. Half the school isn’t even here because who the fuck goes to school the day before prom? It’s both a blessing and a curse, because no one’s here to see Minghao take out his blue balls on the school lunch table, but it also means that it’s quiet enough for everyone that is here to notice. So what else is Minghao to do but storm out? He’s made a scene now, and if he’s already gone and made everyone think he’s psychotic, he may as well follow through with the act and walk away very angrily. He hears the room flood with murmurs as soon as he’s out the door. The entire school knows Minghao and Junhui are pretty much conjoined at the hip, so this outburst has surely been an Event. Especially considering prom is actually tomorrow, and the entire universe has just assumed that they’re going together. Minghao laughs into himself, remembering Junhui hasn’t even asked him. That big fucking idiot.

In all fairness, Minghao is just as big an idiot for not asking Junhui. But the thing is, Junhui knows Minghao is a big fucking idiot, so he’s always been the one to initiate everything. He holds Minghao’s hand first, suggests plans and usually apologises when they fight. Hell, Minghao always thought Junhui would be the one to propose. Not to be dramatic or anything, but it seems there won’t be any proposing of the wedding kind of Minghao doesn’t get asked to prom in the next 0.0007 seconds.

What’s worse is he doesn’t give a rats ass about prom. The highlight of his night would probably be spiking the punch with Jihoon and eating mad King Junhui™ face. But he just assumed Junhui would ask, y’know? It just seems like something couples do, go to prom and take those gross pictures with the guys hands on the girl’s waist as documentation of the furthest they’ve ever gone. Which would be an issue because there’s no girl in their relationship and they’re the same height, but he knows Junhui’s alpha male ass would pummel Minghao into his living room floor if he dared challenge who stood behind who.

As much as Minghao liked to shove his feelings away with sarcasm and dark humour, he still really wants to be one of those gross couples and show their grandkids the photo documentation of how far they’ve gone even though they’ve actually gone a lot farther but that’s not the point. He wants to do all the cheesy couple things, and he thought Junhui did too.

“Minghao!” He does everything not to turn around, he really does, but that silky voice and the chinese accent on his name he so dearly loves force his eyes to dreamy Junhui running down the empty hallway like some typical High School movie. Gross. So, totally, gross.

“What is up with you? What was that?” He huffs and puffs like he even had to run that far, which he really didn’t and he should stop being so dramatic if he doesn’t fancy a smack. The space between Minghao’s eyebrows clumps together in absolute confusion. As if he really has the nerve to ask ‘what is up’ with Minghao. Like he didn’t come to school in Jeon frickin Wonwoo’s car AND ignore his wave AND walk right past him on the way to class AND THEN not sit with him at lunch.

“What’s up with you Junhui?” He throws the same words right back, angry and expectant. He shoves his arms into the pockets of his hoodie, just to occupy them with something. Junhui scoffs, because Minghao sounds pretty ridiculous asking him what’s up when he’s the one who just made an earthquake in the cafeteria. They’re staring at eachother now, trying to find answers in the silence they’re both too stubborn to break. As always, it’s Junhui who speaks first. This time it’s not a yell, and his anger is a little more well hidden. Still there, but tucked away.

“I walked into the cafeteria and you had a tantrum, then you stormed off. I’m sorry I want to eat lunch? What the hell is wrong with you?” A little laugh pushes past Minghao’s lips. He doesn’t really try that hard to stop it, even though he knows it’s an ugly and nasty thing to do. It hurts him to see the way Junhui’s body recoils at the harsh sound his genuine concern gets. But Minghao is mad now, his cup runeth the fuck over, he’s been pushed that bit too far, and now that Junhui has come looking for it he’s gonna hear every last word Minghao has to say.

“Are you fucking serious? My own boyfriend is actually avoiding me. I swear, you plot routes and plans to make damn sure you don’t have to speak a word to me. If it weren’t for us being friends for the better part of my life, I’d really think you don’t want to be with me at all.” He pauses, to make sure Junhui does actually want to be with him, because at this point he’s so vulnerable he’ll believe anything. Junhui takes the cue and nods. It really doesn’t do all that much for his case.

“Which honestly, just makes it worse, because it means you’re just genuinely being an asshole. I mean, you came to school in Wonwoo’s car. I’m sorry my 1997 toyota corolla isn’t the eighty grand lexus Wonwoo drives around, but I don’t think my lack of expensive car and silver spoon up my ass means you can just not ask me to drive you to fucking school. And to answer your previous smart ass statement, you should be damn sorry you want to eat lunch. I love Seungcheol and Jeonghan, but I’m seriously starting to believe you’re in some poly love triangle. Would it kill you to spend one lousy lunchtime with me? I mean, you don’t see me after school, you cancelled that, you don’t text me, _ever_ , you spend the morning giggling and fawning over Wonwoo, and if it’s not any of the above you study, whatever that is. you can’t spare me one fucking second of your day.” Junhui’s eyes are the size of planets, considering if he needs a transcript of the lecture he just got. Minghao was so, so, painfully wrong, and it made Junhui’s throat beg to scream right back about what a dumbass he was being right now. But one of the things about childhood friends is you know them so well. Inside out and back to front, Junhui knows everything. Once Minghao is angry, he’s angry, and there’s nothing to be done. He’s right and you’re wrong, and that will always be final. There’s no point yelling back at him. It’s not going to fix anything. He’s gathering his thoughts in a neat and orderly line, all calculated and prepped for minimal collateral damage. Which kind of makes things worse, seeing as Minghao just screamed about his feelings and it seems Junhui suddenly can’t hear and has nothing to say. He’s already pissed by the time Junhui’s explanations come filing out, one by one.

“I know you’re younger than me and everything, but this is my senior year and this exam really matters. I love you, but this is important to me too. If I don’t get the score I want, I don’t know what I’ll do. I need you to stick by me on this. You know whenever I’m not with you I’m studying, and it honestly hurts to know you really don’t believe that. Please, understand not all my time is yours. It’s my last year of school, I need to make it count.” His explanation goes right over Minghao’s head because as stated before, now that he’s angry he doesn’t care for any stupid excuses Junhui has to offer. Now there’s not one, but two angry teenage boys in the hallway. There’s no winning with Minghao, honestly, even though Junhui did his absolute best to assure Minghao that he still loves him the same way he’s loved him his whole life.

But no matter how right and honest and _right_ Junhui is, Minghao is absolutely silent. He’s stubborn, and still very fucking mad, because Junhui said absolutely nothing about the most important matter, Jeon Wonwoo and his eighty grand lexus. Worst of fucking all, he didn’t feel the need to say anything about prom, which Minghao refuses to bring up because that is beyond his anger capacity right now. That issue deserves his full undivided attention. Because it’s fucked. So, he throws passive aggressive bullets at Junhui in the form of silence.

“You know what, Minghao? You just don’t get it. My-”

“I get it Junhui. I get it just fine. You don’t have any time for me, I’m second to your fucking homework.”

“Do you hear yourself? I’m trying to get into med school, you couldn’t last a day in my life.”

“You are so full of it, Wen Junhui. It would be so easy to be you and make time for my own fucking boyfriend”

“Shut up Minghao.”

“Fuck off, Junhui.”

* * *

“You should really say something to him.”

“The fuck I won’t. And open the car door, asshole.” Minghao is looking like a little bitch pulling with his skinny arms on the car door that Chan refuses to open because he’s being a little shit. School’s out, and Minghao needs to blast before Junhui tries to take them to couples counselling. The last thing he wants is another word from him. He’s so pissed he really doesn’t know when he’ll be able to see his face again without violently vomiting. He doesn’t know how far he can really push the holding-back-vomit thing, but he did set a new record this morning so the sky’s the limit. He practically begs Chan to drive him anywhere Junhui won’t be and when he finally does open the car door, Hao does his best to not slam it too hard out of appreciation. Also, his car is so shitty and old it might fall clean off.

His arm sits on the edge of the rolled down window while the car speeds way faster than it should. He’s kind of inviting an oncoming truck to slice his hand right off, because at this point enough has happened that it’s likely he won’t even feel it. Just thinking about Junhui makes those weak tears pool in his eyes again. Fuck, when did he get this soft? Next thing you know he’ll be going flower picking and keeping a bullet journal. Although that does seem fun. See?! Weak.

As funny as it is to think about Chan prancing around in a field of daisies, Minghao’s usual emotional wall breaks down real quick and now he’s breaking down, stupid tears falling too quick for his thin fingers to swipe them away. They leave the evidence of their crime as well, the soft skin underneath Minghao’s eyes all puffy and red and flustered. How stupid. Like, it’s really not a big deal to _ask your boyfriend to prom_. What’s he gonna do, say no? It’s tempting now, but if he had played his cards right when the time was good, Junhui could’ve probably gotten a yes and his dick sucked.

His phone goes off, loud and obnoxious even though it was on silent since this morning’s incident. It jolts around Chan’s grimy cup tray, making itself very difficult to ignore, which is not appreciated right now. Minghao is really about to cancel his phone plan. First it was Soonyoung so he could ask him to prom and now it’s Junhui calling, surely to do the damn opposite.

“Talk to him you big baby.” With one hand on the wheel, Chan reaches over and answers the call for him. He’s really pushing it a little far today. But Minghao is not on speaking terms with his #1 choice in friend right now, so he’ll just have to save this ass-whooping for a rainy day.

Honestly, Minghao and Junhui have never had a fight this bad before. If the whole school was quaking because of it, you can imagine how much Chan feels like it’s the end of the world and the sky’s gonna start falling. Truth be told, they’re both acting like little twelve year olds about it. More importantly, they need to suck face or something so that Soonyoung can get the hint and not get his hopes up about going to prom with Minghao. Because that’s never going to happen. And as much as Soonyoung deserves a genuine response, if seeing them glued to each other is what’s gonna get the message across, what’s Chan gonna do about it?

“Where are you? I’m still waiting at school. I thought we were going out or at least going to talk about what happened at lunch. Are you driving? What-”

“Go to hell, Junhui. See if I care. Not like you ever did. What’s it like to get ditched, huh? Seeya asshole.” And before Junhui can sputter another word, he hangs up.

“That’s really not what I meant when I said talk to him.” Chan’s disappointed but not at all surprised by how petty Minghao can be when he wants to be. Hao’s feet go up on the console of the car to balance out how weirdly emotional he’s being right now with some super sick rebellious threat to society behaviour. Now he really needs a drink.

* * *

“Oh Junie, you’ll be okay. You guys will make up, you always do. Right, Seungcheol?”

“Jeonghan’s right. You know how Minghao gets. He’ll be over it by tomorrow, and you’ll go to prom like planned and take gross pictures and gross everyone out when you french kiss. It’ll be ok.” Junhui is eating his feelings with a bowl of ice cream in front of him because Minghao really ditched him for god knows who. But his healing atmosphere is being ruined by his mom and dad preaching about how love is real and he’ll get over it and they’ll make up and they’ll go to prom together but _Junhui hasn’t even asked him to prom._ His very attentive parents clearly pick up on his ‘i fucked up’ silence. Seungcheol is quicker than Jeonghan and always has been, so he double checks that _you did ask him to prom, right?_ Junhui looks pretty constipated as he shakes his head slowly, Jeonghan letting his mouth drop open and head tilt to the side in what can only be described as parental disappointment, and Seungcheol doing his best to hold back his cackle but just sputtering into his hand. Which earns him a smack across the arm from both the other boys.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry, it’s just-” He laughs again for good measure, ignoring the daggers both Junhui and Han are throwing him. “You really didn’t ask him?” His whole body shakes with how hard he’s actually trying not to laugh, but he gives himself away with how his eyes scrunch the way they do when he’s about to piss from cackling so hard. Junhui’s eyes roll back into his skull, which makes Jeonghan join Seungcheol in yell laughing. Betrayal.

“Wonwoo already laughed at me this morning, spare me. I planned to say something to him today, I swear! Wonwoo said to just ask, and I think he’s right, Minghao is really-”

“Well what are we waiting for!” Jeonghan is already out of his seat and pulling Seungcheol to do the same, because he really thinks he’s cupid ever since he convinced Cheol to be his boyfriend. Which took no convincing because he had been whipped for Han since year 5 when he’d give him half a nutella sandwich every day, but it’s a victory he won’t live down.

“I have no clue where he is. I was gonna ask him after school, but he left.”

“Yeah, well.” Jeonghan sits down again, a lost cause. “I can’t blame him. You did have that brawl at lunch.”

“He only really hangs out with Chan and Soonyoung when he’s not with us, so surely he can’t be that hard to track down?” Seungcheol does actually want to help Junhui, as funny as this situation is. That’s pretty accurate, but to be honest Soonyoung has never liked Junhui. No idea why. And if Minghao is mad at Junhui, it’s more than doubtful that Chan would say a word to him. He’s not friends with any of their friends because the art hoes don’t mix with the intellectuals, so he’s got nothing.

“I heard Soonyoung talking about some mixer the art kids are having with all the other high schools in the district, chances are he’ll be there too.” Jeonghan skims his thumbs over Seungcheol’s hand as he talks, just habit and love. They’re the textbook definition of high school love birds. But they’re also really good friends to Junhui, so the three of them get plus oned in no time and they’re on their way to some random guy’s house within the minute.

“It’s not even a big deal. Hao doesn’t care about that stuff.” Jeonghan always rides shotgun, so Junhui is stuck leaning over the centre console so he can actually be heard over the girl groups Han insists on blasting. Which to be fair, is a nice alternative from the neutral milk hotel he usually sits through with Hao.

“Are you serious?” Seungcheol yells above Red Velvet too. He’s way too soft for Jeonghan to turn it down. It’s kind of endearing. He knows the second the music turns off, Jeonghan’s bleach blonde hair that’s been starting to go curly at the ends will stop bopping around to every count, and if he could he would stare at him doing the aforementioned bopping for his whole life. So the music stays as loud as ever.

“He’s been yelling about prom since he was a freshman. You’re not actually that stupid, right?”

“Wait, he’s upset about it? No way.” Now Jeonghan turns his own music down, swerving to face the back and make absolutely sure Junhui didn’t get kidnapped and some impostor is speaking for him. But no, it’s still just Junhui, being a dumbass.

“Jesus christ, you really are stupid.” Junhui is very confused, which throws him off quite a lot. He’s a smart boy, it’s not often he doesn’t understand what everyone is talking about. He doesn’t understand why Jeonghan and Seungcheol all of a sudden think they know Minghao when Junhui is the one who’s been best friends with him for his whole life. When Junhui is the only one who can actually understand Minghao’s purest thoughts, the ones he speaks in mandarin. The ones he doesn’t have to stutter on. It feels like an attack, but his heart zooms for Cheol and Han on the daily so he can’t bring himself to actually be offended.

“Listen, Minghao is my best friend and boyfriend. I don’t get why you all of a sudden think you’d know him better than me. He’s not into that gross couple stuff.” He leans back into the seat now that red velvet is blasting less violently. His arms are crossed right across his chest, content about the dominance he asserted over Minghao just then. Junhui’s cocky ass will never rest.

“What about the time he screeched when you gave him seventeen roses for his seventeenth birthday?” Seungcheol steps in again, surely Junhui hasn’t missed the more than obvious cues. Minghao is so painfully non-discreet when he wants to be. But then again, these things are always easier to notice when you’re looking on from the outside.

“Or the time he bullied you into taking him to the drive in?” Jeonghan pipes up from beside Cheol.

“Or the stuffed toy you won for him that he still has?”

“Or the thousand nicknames you have for eachother?”

“Or the playlists he makes you?”

…..fuck. How did this never occur to Junhui? To be fair, Minghao is an absolute rebel in every other part of his life so, can you blame him? He graffitis the school building every other week, skips class and puts his feet up on the desk when he’s sent to the principal’s office. Which is a very regular occurrence.

“Dude, Minghao is a scary son of a bitch when he wants to be. He seriously threatened to cut my throat open if I breathed a word about prom to you. So you better value the intel I just put my life on the line for.” Seungcheol is really just trying to help clueless Junhui out, because this is really quite the tragedy. Almost worth getting his throat slit to get Minghao the prom he’s dreamed of.

Minghao has quite a way with words, using cusses and memes to aid his case, always. But Seungcheol has always found this facade so easy to look through. Jeonghan not so much. Every time Minghao made attempts to talk about his feelings, he just laughs at all the funny one-liners Hao manages to pull out of his ass. Seungcheol hears all the intent behind it, and he knows. Then, he’s just there at the right times. When Minghao breaks down and all there is to him is the ugly side he refuses to show anyone, Seungcheol reminds him it’s ok to be human. So he’s the one that hears all the things Minghao wants to keep secret.

He knows how much doing gross couple things means to Minghao. He makes sure to stop at a florist and give Junhui a pep-talk before they go see Minghao. For both their sakes.

* * *

Minghao is a little mad that he’s not in angsty teen mode, because he detests parties and everything they stand for. Drunk strangers grinding on other drunk strangers trying to get in their pants. But Minghao has Junhui, and he doesn’t need to get drunk to get in his pants at all. So there’s really no appeal to the house parties that blast music and never have any lights on. And the thing is, people think Minghao is some super cool kid, which he is, but it makes them invite him places he doesn’t want to go. And because the only two people he choses to have close are Losers™, they don’t ever get to go to any parties with him. All things considered, he’s usually not eager on them at all.

He’s clearly been living a lie, because this party is amazing. The room is fully lit, and sure there’s drinking but no grinding, no face sucking and no hot 100 pop songs.

Some people are sketching, there’s a pretty big group playing with the dog and it seems the worst thing happening is the heated game of monopoly in the living room. And amongst them is Soonyoung, who looks gorgeous when his cheeks are flushed the bright red that shouldn’t suit him but somehow does. Minghao can’t tell if it’s the alcohol or the girl fawning over him, but it suits him nonetheless. He’s stunning, giggling at all the right times and eyes glistening when they catch on the light. His jet black hair against his pale skin makes him look all the more attractive and serious, but he knows better than to actually think that. That he’s serious, not that he’s attractive. He is definitely attractive.

Minghao isn’t the sweetest of people, so when he realised that Soonyoung was in love with him he pushed it away in the hopes that it would just fade away. And it was background noise, for a long time. But then it was loud. When he was teaching Soonyoung how to paint for the first time and they look at each other for that split second, like there are entire galaxies in front of their eyes. Sometimes when the three of them hang out, and Chan’s old vinyls are crackling away, Minghao lays across Sooyoung's lap and their hearts speed up, so much quicker than they should. But then it’s quick thoughts of _I don’t want to give the wrong idea_ and _Junhui would hate this_ and _I don’t want to hurt either of them_. Of which the latter matters the most to him. So these events are over before they even start.

But sitting here in this stranger's living room, Junhui is god knows where and still no date to prom, the temptation to run a hand through Soonyoung’s hair and kiss the apples of his cheeks grows. Then again, Minghao is a super needy drunk and Junhui is nowhere to be seen. So the chances for some very terrible and regrettable decisions being made are at an all-time high.

“Hao, you’ve been staring at Soonyoung for 10 minutes straight. Are you okay?” Chan speaks up from beside him on the couch, putting a hand on his shoulder to make sure he’s grounded enough to listen. There’s a pause, as if he’s deciding whether or not to say what he wants to. He’s got a little too much alcohol in his system to make a good judgement call, so he opens his mouth with the utmost of confidence.

“I’m saying yes to Soonyoung.”

Chan chokes on his drink.

“Excuse me?”

“I’m saying yes.” Chan is left with his mouth hanging wide open looking like a pretty big loser as Minghao walks off, and right over to the black haired boy playing with the dog. He hears it, barely a murmur, _hey Soonyoung, can I talk to you?_ and even the _hmm? sure_ that follows it. And he doesn’t wanna let him do this, but it’s really not up to him to step in. But god, he’s so mad at Minghao. Minghao is in love with Junhui, he is head over heels. Junhui is the love of his life, and they’re going to grow old together. This is just some stupid little fight they’ll move past, but Minghao can’t see that. He’s so blinded by this stupid anger that he’s going to go and ruin Soonyoung with three stupid letters. This is the thanks Chan gets for trying to be there for Hao. That bastard.

* * *

“Yes.”

“Wait, what?” Sooyoung's eyes are the size of planets now, the giggly bubbly boy from before replaced by one who is just as happy but notably more excited. Mostly confused.

“Yes, I’ll go to prom with-”

“No no, I got that. I’m just- I didn’t expect you to say yes?” He’s beaming up at him, and a little piece of Minghao breaks away because _god he’s being an asshole right now,_ but he gives Soonyoung a smirk back and takes his hands in his to really get the point across.

“Well, people can surprise you.”

“But what about…” Soonyoung’s sentence fades away at the end, all expectant and testing the waters. Because Minghao has a boyfriend, who he both yelled at and is now not going to prom with. To the people at their high school, there are three constants: The taps on the third floor bathroom are fucked beyond repair, the blonde cafeteria lady is the most generous with her portions and Minghao and Junhui are in love with each other. Which obviously never stopped Soonyoung from pining for Minghao, much to his dismay. And he should be happy, ecstatic even, and he is, but it’s just _weird_. Minghao was this unattainable thing, and now here he is, holding his hand in the hallway and telling him all the things he’s only heard when he’s playing out this exact conversation in his head.

“I’m going with you, Soonyoung. I promise.” And he smiles, but it’s tight lipped. He promises he’s going to punch himself in the face the second he gets home, because this is so definitely getting him into hell if being gay hadn’t already.

It takes all of about 5 seconds for it to go to shit. He hears loud mouth Jeonghan coming from a mile away, yelling all excited like this is the best party he’s been to in his whole life. Which is a fat and ugly lie, as the big smile he had on his face giving Cheol a drunken lap dance last Saturday begs to differ. Which means something is definitely up, because the only thing exciting here is the dog and he hasn’t even seen it yet. Minghao and Soonyoung both move from the hallway to get a better view of the door and see what in gods name is going on. Seungcheol is following closely behind Han, which is no surprise, Wonwoo is behind him and-

What the fuck?

Too much has happened at once, and Minghao needs to stop and make a list and sort out what he’s mad about and what he’s gonna let go because _holy fucking mustard stains batman_.

  1. Wonwoo is here. Super pissed about it. Wonwoo is a nice guy but he’s coming for Minghao’s man and he won’t stand for it. Yes he’s in a relationship with Mingyu and they’re moving in together in like 3 weeks but the point still stands. Minghao is probably drunk enough to clob him across his shit eating face. Will return to this concept at a later time.
  2. Junhui is right behind him. He specifically remembers checking the event for anyone who might have a connection to Junhui and finding nothing. His false sense of safety from this snake has shattered before him and he’d like to have a word with god or something about how much of an ass he’s being for not letting Minghao avoid his problems. Considerably pissed about this one. But Wonwoo’s presence outweighs this.
  3. Wen Junhui is holding a bouquet of flowers, lilys it seems, but Minghao refuses to look long enough to find out. This is disgusting and Wen Junhui is a stupid little boy who hasn’t a clue about flowers or bouquets or complimentary colours and that arrangement is way too nice to be of his own choosing. So point 3 is now a mental note to thank Seungcheol for picking out such nice flowers for him. Not that mad about this. Free flowers. But Wen Junhui is a confirmed stupid little boy from this point onwards.
  4. Junhui’s other hand is extremely busy being held by Wonwoo’s, who has a vice grip on him and space and time might break right in half if he ever lets go. This is a mild idea of how much force he’s using. Minghao is pissed the most about this point. Junhui may as well kiss the man. And kiss Minghao’s ass goodbye.
  5. Wen Junhui has now spotted Minghao, who is holding Soonyoung’s hand in what could be seen as a very incriminatory way. Which it is. Very incriminatory. But he just told the guy he’d go to prom with him, and made an explicit point about not going with Junhui and being Very Super Sure about it. So he can’t exactly let go now. Very mad that he’s drunk and didn’t think about anything and Soonyoung is never gonna talk to him again. He secretly hopes Tomorrow Morning Minghao has the worst hangover of his life. It’s what she deserves.
  6. Junhui is walking over, thankfully without Jeon Wonwoo, and Soonyoung has blasted the fuck away at the speed of light. If Minghao doesn’t actually commit the traditional form of japanese suicide which entails your own disembowelment in preference over social shame, it’ll be a miracle. Kind of keen on the death thing. Not mad at all.



 

“Minghao, I-”

Silence.

“These are for you.”

Junhui shoves the flowers in Minghao’s face. Which fucking sucks, because Minghao has hayfever. Asshole. But there’s a note, and he doesn’t have to open it to know what’s written on it, but he does anyway because apparently he’s a masochist now.

_Minghao, will you go to prom with me?_

Silence. Then-

“Junhui, you have less than 6 seconds to come up with something less sad than this before your ass hits the floor.”

He’s reaching for the words but they’re so far gone he can’t even get a syllable out. Minghao stares, on and on, wishing that he didn’t have such a soggy piece of bread for a boyfriend. This has got to be, the biggest prank of the year.

“Minghao, I’m sorry, I didn’t know it meant so much to you!” He’s so tempted to interrupt, but he never saw them breaking up all angry and heated and yelling. He’s going for something a little more stoic, tragically romantic in a way that makes you root for the protagonist even when they fuck the whole thing up. Much like Minghao within these next few moments.

“Don’t worry about it. I’m going with Soonyoung anyway.” And he’s so levelheaded, so normal and steady that if he hadn’t listened out, Junhui might’ve missed the fact that his boyfriend is going to prom with someone else.

“Excuse me?”

“He asked me this morning in art. You hadn’t asked yet, so I just said yes. Sorry.” It’s the most noncommittal apology he has ever given in his life. His shoulders shrug in typical sarcastic asshat fashion, which earns him a whisper of _you’re not sorry_ from Junhui.

“Yeah you’re right. But you’re not either.” And well, if they’re gonna fight, Minghao’s really gonna let him know how much of a moldy sandwich he was for not giving a shit about prom.

“What?”

“You didn’t ask me to prom Junhui. Do you even begin to understand how much that makes me feel like shit? I’m not sorry that I’m going to prom with the only person who had asked me.” Junhui sighs in disbelief at this whole fucking ordeal. He has homework to be doing and instead he has to be here at this hippy gathering assuring Minghao’s insecure ass about something So stupid and miniscule it may as well be dirt on the sidewalk.

“Minghao, I swear. Do not be like this. Stop acting up! I’m sorry I didn’t ask you to prom! It’s not a big deal, and you’re being really dramatic about it-”

This is the last thing Minghao wants to hear. And my god, if he was pissed before, he’s fucking fuming now.

“I don’t need to listen to this.”

And he storms back into the party, all of a sudden angry that it’s not a drunk strangers grinding on other drunk strangers trying to get in their pants party. The room is quiet, every jaw on the floor and eyes fixed to Minghao and whatever scene he just made. But they’re all shy quiet introverts, so no one asks and they mind their own business when Soonyoung joins Minghao on the couch, much closer than is considered to be Hetero.

With only a wall separating them, Junhui is one big pot of emotions. Unlike his angsty counterpart, Junhui can keep himself from boiling over, but it doesn’t mean he’s any less pissed. This is an absolute shit storm, and he didn’t stop by the fancy italian suit place and basically sell his soul for a nice little maroone number for Minghao to go to fucking prom with Soonyoung.

Junhui is hotter than Soonyoung. He’s taller than Soonyoung. He’s a better dancer than Soonyoung. He’s funnier than Soonyoung. He’d like to say he’s smarter, but the highest intelligence prize is up for grabs as Soonyoung was clearly one step ahead this time. He slowly becomes aware of the yelling match behind him and tunes in to listen. Mind you, it’s one of those yelling matches that’s not actually yelling. It’s some form of whisper yelling that’s too advanced for Junhui.

_“Well, you’re the one who told him it was a good idea to just ask!”_ Jeonghan’s bleach blonde hair flails on the top of his head, unable to keep up with how quick he’s nodding and shaking to accent his most important words.

_“Oh, okay, so the fact that prom is tomorrow and he hasn’t spent a day with Hao in the last month has nothing to do with it?”_ Well, they clearly haven’t noticed Junhui is listening, because _wow_ that one hurt. Especially coming from Wonwoo.

_“Of course it does asshole, that’s why this had to be one of those promposals with a mariachi band and cupcake tower.”_

_“Han, I think you just want to eat cupcakes.”_

_“Cheol, stay out of it.”_

At this point they see Junhui standing on the outskirts of their huddle and instantly straighten their backs and raise their voices again.

“You can’t win ‘em all big guy!” Wonwoo tries his hand at cheering up Junhui after the spectacle he is partly to blame for. He get’s Junhui’s :/ face instead.

“What do you wanna do now man?” Cheol’s eyebrows scrunch together in a way that shows genuine concern. He better stop displaying so many feelings, he’s dropping ranks on the social hierarchy quicker than Minghao storming off at lunch.

 

Too soon.

Junhi laughs into his palms and does that thing where you wipe your hand across your face so hard in hopes that you might just sandpaper it all off. This is human frustration at its peak. And how else do you deal with homework, rejection and the exciting promise of blue balls to come?

“Let’s go party.”

Minghao felt the absolute opposite. The the room was spinning and he was sick, again, and he’s honestly got no food left to resurrect and show as an offering to his anxiety. But it’s so different to this morning, it feels wrong to label both experiences with the same word. This morning he was nails digging into hands, slamming doors and missed calls galore. Although the nausea has remained a common theme, now he’s a little tired, limbs too heavy for him and staring at the ceiling hoping it can keep tears at bay. Soonyoung asks if he wants a ride home. Minghao agrees, only if it's not his own house they’re going to. And who’s Soonyoung to say no to that?


	2. Saturday morning, the day Junhui decides gluten is better than sexual intercourse and Wonwoo learns the difference between grasshoppers and crickets

Oh jesus christ. Father of all that is holy, the creator and surveyor of this pure earth-  
Junhui promises to start going to sunday church if you promise to make hangovers illegal. Why does his head pound like he smacked it on the pavement at least twenty times? He’s tempted to say forty until he realises it’s the killer headache making him so dramatic and touchy.  
He wants a refund. He didn’t drink anything last night, as bad as his delusional, heart-broken brain may have wanted to (he’s also only ever had hard lemonade and let’s just say Jihoon still has video evidence of Junhui rapping Bad and Boujee, so he doesn’t go near the stuff).

He wanted Minghao way, colossally more. And yes, he wanted to wallow in his sad little feelings, but it just felt wrong to drown out anything about Minghao. He loves him, and he wants any thought of him to be painstakingly loud. And alcohol has a tendency to make everything else miniscule, so he stayed clear. This hangover is not well deserved.

Yesterday, he was mad, so mad it was just like liquid metal coursing through every blood vessel Junhui’s body is home to. Which is approximately 100,000 blood vessels. That’s a lot of metal. Could give Warped Tour a run for its money.  
This morning, the thrill of yelling at his boyfriend in a stranger's home has been sedated and he’s left to realise that _holy toast he yelled at his boyfriend in a stranger's home_ . And by god he needs to fix things with Minghao before the world ends like it was meant to in 2012. Even though he can barely hear his own thoughts over the pounding in his head (which he’ll return to at a later time), he know that he loves Minghao more than he can ever love anything else, and he’ll make love to Guy Fieri before he lets him break them up. He just wants to make things right. Frickin Xu Minghao and his way of making people apologise first.  
This is as coherent as the sentences get before he needs to do something about the headache. It’s so bad he can barely open his eyes and he hasn’t even tried to yet, because the sun shining through the window is enough to blind him already. How is he gonna apologize to Hao if he can’t even see him? You have to think ahead sometimes.

Opening his eyes was the first mistake. He definitely did drink last night. As much as he knows he didn’t, he must’ve because this is 100% Soonyoung’s room and _oh god he’s in his bed_ and there’s no one anywhere. He’s been here once to pick up something of Minghao’s, and even though the memory is fuzzy this is certainly the Kwon household. There are Sex and the City dvds everywhere (his confessed guilty pleasure). Soonyoung is such a Charlotte.

Not that Junhui would know.

The panic of whatever happened last night makes him sit straight up, but the movement is too quick and there’s definitely something that wants to crawl up his throat. And oh, this must be a dream! It feels read, but he did _not_ have those muscles when he went to sleep last night. It’s a little weird to feel up your own washboard abs, but it’s a dream and who’s around to see him be self indulgent? Sure, it’s a little hyper-realistic and creepy, but it could be a lot worse. There could be pickles involved. He’s humming, content to sit here until he wakes up, and that is the plan.

* * *

Xu Minghao knows he’s screwed from the second he wakes up. Something is extremely fucking wrong. First of all, he has to wonder if someone slipped him something at the art hoe party because it’s a viable option and could be the cause of this mess. Then again, drinking until you see stars can fuck someone up pretty bad. After sorting through every single thing that could’ve happened, including getting kidnapped by the government for some experiment, being abducted by aliens or pushing it a little too far with the man upstairs, he comes to realise that this is real. And what the fuck. In that order.

Junhui’s bedroom is so easy to recognise, and he’s mad that this is where he ended up last night, but he didn’t end up here because he’s not him. Himself. This isn’t Minghao. Well, it is, but this is Junhui’s body _for sure_. He already checked. Some parts more than others. His “checks” are in the double digits.

He’s never done acid before, but if he had to guess what that’s like, he may use this exact situation. Has he become a little einstein? Because he’s certainly gone on a trip.

He’s been in this situation before. The first hand held, the first kiss, the first I love you, the first touch below the belt; he knows what it’s like to think something is so crazy that it has to be a dream. But every time, it’s the way Junhui’s pretty eyes sparkle like pools of pure pigment and the warmth through his palm sets fire to Minghao’s skin that reminds him it’s all very real. The mirror casts back the same face he always looked to for clarity, familiarity and safety. So this has to be real. He is really, truly, is in Wen Junhui’s body.

Whatever the fuck is happening, it’s weird and he hates it and he could be having a lot of fun but they just fought, so he’s not quite in the mood to whip his dick out and do as he so pleases. This is when he realises that someone else must be in his body, and that someone is most likely Junhui. He pushes the realisation of _where_ Junhui is gonna wake up out of his head, because he does not have the time or emotional capacity to deal with that. One step at a time.

In a really fucking fantastic turn of events, he turned his phone off yesterday after the call with Junhui. Which gives him zero contact to the boy who might stop breathing right then and there when he realises the pickle they’ve got themselves into. Also he is deathly afraid of pickles (it’s a very long story) so the analogy alone might send him into shock. By the 19th call straight to voicemail, Minghao remembers this (not that Junhui is scared of pickles, that he turned his stupid phone off). After a fit of rage in which the bed comes out victorious and his stubbed toe not so much, he settles on going over to Soonyoung’s to pick Junhui (himself?) up. There was a lot of _totally-super-legal_ alcohol in his system yesterday, so if he’s lucky Junhui-who-is-currently-Minghao won’t be up for another hour or two. Bless the hangover Minghao escaped from. This god truly is a kind one.

The rush is definitely not important enough to skim over Junhui’s outfit. My god, this is the best thing to have happened to Minghao since Junhui gave him his first handjob in the locker room. Dressing Junhui to his own taste and inevitably increasing his hotness by at least triple. He sorts through boring sweaters, cinos and a dress shirt he takes off the rack with every intention to throw it in the trash on his way out to ensure the future of their sex life. He swims through mountains of the basic shit Junhui wears every day until he finds some gems.

He’s so calm about it, flicking through Junhui’s clothes in Junhui’s body like it’s all his own. A pretty weak laugh pushes past his lips when he thinks of his boyfriend (?) waking up and realising what’s happening. If he doesn’t think it’s a dream that is. He tends to be sceptic about this stuff.

The good clothes he finds hidden deep in Junhui’s closet are a big piss stain of mismatched colours, different textures and all around bad ju-ju. It’s easiest to pick out the two black things he sees, a turtleneck and the only jeans Junhui has that have rips at the knees (they’re also ripped at the upper thigh which is borderline overstimulation). It’s gross that his mouth waters when he’s looking at his own reflection so he doesn’t dwell, but this is definitely the hottest Junhui has ever looked. Except for when he’s naked but that doesn’t really count.

Minghao’s jean jacket he left at this place ages ago is still hung up amongst other clothes and he decides to take claim over it now. Junhui has no games on his phone so it’s almost useless to take it, but the rational part of him brings it. Along with Junhui’s wallet. His fat wallet. His T, H, I, double C wallet. It’s pretty much a favour to take some cash out and pay the cab driver to take him to Soonyoung’s. At least the cab driver won’t notice him shitting bricks in the back seat.

* * *

“Can I help you?” There are fewer things more startling than the guy you homewrecked showing up at your door. One of the few things that tops this is being greeted by a teenage boy in a floral apron, bowl in hand, dancing to that one song from Moana. Which is a bop, but it’s still weird. And even weirder because the threatening words do nothing when there are little bits of raw pancake batter hanging to the corners of Soonyoung’s mouth. Well, there’s nothing scarier than salmonella.

“Uh, yeah, is Junhui still here?” Soonyoung is gone beyond words. Junhui really must have gotten sloshed last night to be at his door asking if _he’s_ still here.

“Ah, fuck-” A flinch. Junhui never swears. Soonyoung needs to find out what he took last night to make absolutely sure he never goes near it. This is not Junhui. “Minghao, sorry, Minghao. Is he, _Minghao_ , still here?” This swapping bodies thing is gonna take some getting used to. He quickly runs away from the thoughts about just how long things are gonna be like this.

“What’s it to you?” One of Soonyoung’s eyebrows arches up in an ugly way that suggests deceit. It takes every single atom inside Minghao’s body to not laugh. He knows damn well Junhui is in there. Oh wait, fuck, _Minghao_ , he’s in there. Some code names need to be established, this is a mess. Then again, when is Xu Minghao not a mess.

“Dude, just let me see him.” All he gets is a shrug of the shoulders. Kwon Soonyoung is being a little rat right now. Despite last night, he is still Junhui’s boyfriend and it’s not on him to hold out on visiting hours like his house has turned into holding for terrible boyfriends.

“I dunno man.” Soonyoung slumps against the door frame now, cocky from god knows what. All Minghao did last night was smile at the mention of prom and thank him for the hospitality. The holding hands is not third base by anyone's definition. This is not the Kwon Soonyoung he knows. This is not the Kwon Soonyoung he’s best friends with. This is an ugly, twisted version of him.

“He was really mad at you last night. We had to leave because you upset him that much. I don’t think he wants to see you right now. How did you know he was here anyway?” Minghao is very close to shoving the tree in the front lawn up his ass. Does Soonyoung really have it out for Junhui this much? He feels a little bad for believing his best friend over his boyfriend, who was seemingly the one telling the truth about Soonyoung hating him for no apparent reason. They can both be assholes at times but this feud is particularly idiotic, even for the both of them.

“Lucky guess. Let me see him.”

“No.”

A scoff.

“Excuse me? He’s my boyfriend.”

“Well, Junhui. He had a lot to say about that when he was in my bed last night.” Minghao wishes he didn’t catch every implication behind that sentence. That he took it for face value; he _had_ slept in Soonyoung’s bed. But that’s not what he meant, and his blood is fucking boiling hotter than the surface of the sun. Soonyoung is a snitch, and an asshole, and so not a good friend. If he was, he wouldn’t be trying so hard to break up Minghao’s relationship, tearing the wallpaper off their perfect house piece by piece. He’s pushing past Soonyoung, thundering up the stairs he knows well. The other boy is smart enough to not follow him. Outside the door to the room he knows Junhui is in, he takes just one second to chill the fuck out just to make sure Junhui doesn't freak out when he sees himself staring back.  

In typical Junhui fashion, he’s wide awake, sitting up, and running his hands all over Minghao’s body. Which sounds super hot, but it’s the opposite when all he sees is himself feeling up,

well,

himself

“Junhui!”

“I need you to be a million times quieter, my-” Junhui stops mid-sentence when his eyes finally find who had called his name.

It appears to have been himself.

The two boys find themselves in Kwon Soonyoung’s bedroom, Junhui-but-actually-Minghao wearing god knows what and Minghao-but-actually-Junhui with one hand down his shirt, and one hand down his-

“Oh my god, what the hell, this is some dream-” Junhui’s eyes scurry over every part of his own body, right before him. There was definitely something in his system, this is an advanced hallucination. Has he always been that lanky? Junhui-but-actually-Minghao stands there dazed, staring right back. He knows this is reality which makes it weirder, just seeing himself sitting there. Skinny limbs, pointed ears and a face like all hell. Hangovers are not good for the visuals.

“Junhui, this isn’t a dream. And please get your hand out of my pants.”

_Junhui?_

He’s Junhui. But so is the person right in front of him. Well, that’s certainly his body. And his clothes. He’d like to wake up now please, this mind warp is too intense for a dream. He shakes his head so hard his brain jostles inside his skull, and even slaps himself a little for good measure. It does nothing.

“This is real, dumbass. Stop being so embarrassing.” There’s only one person on this earth who would get embarrassed even with no one else in the room. And oh no, does that mean he’s-

He scrambles up to find a mirror but of course Kwon Soonyoung owns zero, so he settles for the only reflective surface available to him. The reflection the window throws back at him is muddled and very distorted, but it doesn’t take much to realise _he’s Minghao._

“Oh, my god, what is-what am I?” His arms are flailing a little as he tries to grasp the situation which suddenly feels a lot more real with Minghao’s posture and mannerisms on his own body, which are easy to notice once he realises what’s happening. Jesus, his heart is trying to make a run for it and judging by the force with which it’s pounding against Junhui’s ribcage, it seems success is imminent. The points of his fingers are shaking with the gravity of it all. There’s no way this is real.

“Jun, sit down or something, I am not letting you pass out in my body.”

The two move to sit on the bed against the wall, Minghao making sure to lock the door for all good measure. There’s a few deep breaths from Junhui and mental preparation from Minghao before they’re finally gathered enough to say something.

“So you’re-”

“Yep.”

“And I’m-”

“Yeah.”

You can see the gears turning in Junhui’s mind, listing off every single way that this sucks until he realises-

“This is Soonyoung’s bedroom.” He was going to realise sooner or later. Realise he woke up in Soonyoung’s bed as Minghao. All articles of clothing are still on, but waking up in the wrong bedsheets is still pretty damning evidence. And fuck, if Minghao’s going to hold Soonyoung’s hand and go to prom with him, maybe they just got in on the after prom tradition a little early.

He knows his mind is going way faster than it should be and he’s spinning out of control with these allegations, but it’s what feels right and he chases the anger that starts to build tense in his chest. He’s fuming now, because in all of his years with Minghao he has loved him with all he can love with and Minghao has always done the same. This is gross, and he’s angry and this is so not Minghao. What’s worse is he takes so long to say something back, it’s so easy to assume there are answers in his silence.

“I’m leaving.” Junhui’s serious, it’s not a consideration up for discussion, he shuffles off the bed in Minghao’s body and nothing would’ve stopped him if the door wasn’t locked. He pulls against it and sighs when it doesn’t jolt open, looking at it in an a very accusatory way. Every single muscle in his body is awake, every nerve alert and he feels like a gust of wind might either knock him over or anger him enough to punch right through the door anyway.

“Junhui, are you fucking joking? First of all, I didn’t do anything with Soonyoung, so stop acting like he put his dick in my ass. Second of all, I’m not sure if you’ve noticed, but you’re in my body right now, so I need you to be a little more cooperative here.” Junhui’s forehead hits the door a lot harder than he meant it to and it only intensifies the headache he still has. As much as he hates Soonyoung and his man-stealing ass, he knows it’s Minghao he should trust. Even if that trust is empty sentiments right now.

A quick glance around the room reveals Soonyoung’s clock.10:13 am. Junhui’s suit appointment is in 17 minutes, and he didn’t fight over the phone with Rogelio of Italian Formal Wear while Seungcheol and Jeonghan hollered about BlackPink to miss it. Rogelio was super weird and that phone call was scarring. He might not be going to prom with Minghao, but that was a very very expensive suit so he’s going to prom if it’s the last thing he does. Cons of forgetting prom is a thing: having to buy the only suit left, which was obviously the most expensive. Having your boyfriend absolutely flame you at a house party. The list is too long.

“I have a suit appointment.”

“Bleugh, can we not talk about prom?” Minghao’s eye roll really suits Junhui’s facial features which is startling to say the least. “Junhui, you’re missing the point here-”

“Still prom?” He guesses from past experience, because apparently that’s the point he’s been missing lately.

“No smartass, can you shut your mouth for longer than 3 seconds? Fuck. You can’t go to any suit appointment, because I’m you. Which is the point you’re missing. I’m in your body, and we don’t know why or how or when I’m getting by abs back.” The last point is what matters to Minghao the most. He works hard for those. Junhui takes the liberty of slipping his hand up his shirt again.

“I don’t wanna give those back.”

His hand is slapped out of the shirt.

“You can take back this lousy hangover too!”

“Junhui! Listen, I’m not stressed about it. I don’t understand what’s going on and I don’t think I’m getting any closer to knowing why this happened, or how to change back. But I don’t want you to start freaking out on me.” He’s already very stressed. In fact the longer Minghao talks, the more his stream of thought becomes that spongebob meme where the entire office is on fire in his head and there are a million little spongebobs yelling. These meme references are an indication of just how delusional he is right now. But god, what’s he gonna do about it? If they tell anyone they’ll just sound crazy, and Junhui can’t bear to get locked up in the looney bin at the ripe age of 18. There’s nothing they can do, except maybe join a cult and enlist their help, but that’s more in Minghao’s wheelhouse than it is Junhui’s. So, he can’t do anything.

“I won’t. It’s not like I can fix this.” There’s some silence. Neither boy knows how the fuck to go about this. It’s tempting to just stay together in the same room all day, but in regards to both their fight and being able to swap back, it’s an option neither party is keen on. If they swapped once, they can swap again. But that’s probably not going to happen if they stay locked in this room and make out on Soonyoung’s bed for the rest of the day. Also, imagine making out with yourself. Yeah, _let it sink in_. That’s a big no thanks, and this is the first thing both boys have agreed on so strongly all morning. Although Junhui would probably be secretly into that.

“Well, we swapped when we went to sleep, so maybe we could try that?”

“Minghao, I have a suit appointment.”

“It was worth a shot.” Junhui’s appointment needs to happen, but Minghao promised his best friends he would hang out with them too (and something needs to be done about Soonyoung) so they can’t go together. It’s terrifying to leave someone else in charge of your physical being and their trust isn’t in the best place right now. So this is as shitty as swapping bodies could get. They (mostly Junhui) decide it’s best to set up rules so that no one dies or ruins their relationship forever. It’s no guarantee, but hopefully no throat’s will be rammed.

Junhui’s list written on the back of a receipt in bright pink biro (thanks Soonyoung) reads:

  * NO TOUCHING ME!
  * Make sure the suit is nice
  * Don’t eat too much gluten, it doesn’t agree with me and you’ll be the one paying the price
  * Reply to anything my mother sends or she will think I’m dead
  * Don’t be mean to my friends please
  * No posting on social media!
  * No spending unnecessary amounts of money
  * No swearing
  * Do not mess with my class notes Xu Minghao



Minghao’s list on the notes app on his phone reads:

  * no being nasty to soonyoung
  * NO JUNK FOOD!
  * check into my phone games sometimes i need to be beating chan
  * do not touch my abs in public
  * in private is free game
  * go ahead
  * don’t like lame memes on facebook



With that they part ways, taking each others phones, both agreeing to constantly text updates and adhere to the rules. They decide it’s best to just take each other’s belongings, to make sure they cover their bases or whatever. Minghao just wants Junhui’s cash. Soonyoung is nowhere to be seen, but the disney classics downstairs are still deafening so it’s safe to say he’s fairly busy. Junhui-but-actually-Minghao sneaks out with great ease and Minghao-but-actually-Junhui stays locked up in Kwon Soonyoung’s bedroom until he sorts out his feelings and can manage to say something to the kid without punching him. Actions speak louder than words?

* * *

“Seungcheol?” He yells to the figure outside the shop. Junhui-but-actually-Minghao gets another cab to the suit place Junhui was so adamant about. It’s pretty tragic to compare his rental suit to the luxury of Italian fabrics, so he avoids drawing this comparison again. The suit is gonna look just as nice when it ends up on Junhui’s bedroom floor anyway. He can make out Seungcheol’s figure from far away and the silver hair is a dead giveaway. This triggers the first text of the day.

_To: Minghao_

_can i tell cheol?? he wont care_

No reply yet. He’ll keep his mouth shut for now but it would be so funny to get Cheol in on this mess.

“Hey! I thought you weren’t gonna show, you’re never late. How’d you pull up after last night? Where did you even go? I swear you left right after we got there, Jeonghan and I couldn’t see you anywhere.” What exactly happened last night that would require Seungcheol asking how he ‘pulled up’? All Junhui does is study. Is he asking if his brain hurts?

“You must’ve got seriously fucked up.” Seungcheol leans forward to inspect for any proof of his theory on Juhui’s face, and clearly finds what he wants as he moves away again with some big grin on his face.

“I’m sorry, what happened last night?” Minghao gets a slow blink in return. Maybe it’s morse code. Minghao can’t tell.

“Well, you got your ass handed to you by Hao. Then you said you wanted to go party and ‘drown your sorrows in a bottle of Daniel's’, your words not mine, and then we went to Ten’s party, and I lost sight of you after about 15 minutes.” It’s so unlike Junhui to ‘drown his sorrows in a bottle of Daniel's’, it sends a twinge of guilt through Minghao for pushing him to that. Last night was a bad time. No, yesterday was a bad time. The only good thing to come out of it was pizza and that dog. The worst was Wonwoo. This triggers the second message of the day.

_To: Wonwoo_

_can we hang out_

He may as well take advantage of Junhui’s body. His wording could’ve been a little better on that one.

“Well, I’m feeling as fresh as ever. Let’s do this thing.” He strides towards the suit shop, Cheol following just behind after being left stunned. _Let’s do this thing?_ God, what is he, an edgy teenager? Must be a pretty bad hangover, but it almost isn’t enough to justify his lame vocab.

“Hi, I’m here for my 10:30?” The man behind the counter looks extremely offended by Minghao’s sinful elbow on his clear case that displays handkerchiefs and other gay shit. _Perfect._ He flips through a red book full of scribble at the same pace one would expect from someone who has never seen a fucking book let alone turned one of its pages, until he eventually comes to today’s page.

“June-hoo-i?” It’s a little impressive that he even managed to read the scribble in the book, but by no stretch of the imagination was that even an attempt at Junhui’s name. This man is fucking ridiculous and if that entire cabinet of handkerchiefs becomes an accomplice to the murder when Minghao inevitably chokes him, he’s truly sorry for the innocent he took with him.

“It’s Junhui, assho-“

Seungcheol reaches over to pinch Junhui’s thigh, which gets the message across as if the daggers he gave him hadn’t already. Mother fuck. The last rule on Junhui’s list. Don’t swear.

“Yes, Junhui! Could we have a look at the suit we spoke about on the phone?”

The man stares at Cheol like a teenager who’s just been told to clean his room, which is Minghao’s brand and he will not hesitate to throw a tantrum on the premises of Italian Formalwear. “Rogelio”, as his badge reads, sighs for the 50th time this morning (afternoon ?¿  how much time has passed since he entered this this hellhole of tuxedos and haberdashery ?? does time go slower in this Junhui dimension? only time will tell).

He leads Minghao into a dressing room and a maroon suit is hung up, ready for its purgatory judging. Rogelio closes the velvet curtain with so much force Minghao might get knocked out if it hits him. This is fucking weird and he needs to get out of here asap. Also fuck Rogelio. He’s just a teen boy trying to cop a suit and he is getting absolutely abused in the most unabusive way possible. Mean stares and angsty actions. This is going to shit so quick Minghao is impressed with his own ability to develop strong hate for people at such a rapid rate.

What’s even worse is he can’t zoom off because this suit sucks mad dick. You can’t even see Junhui’s ass, which is the 8th natural wonder of the world. It’s literally listed on the world heritage site. No joke. This suit is treason.

It hangs off his shoulders like sack of fucking potatoes, the sleeves are almost dragging on the floor and the pant legs have joined Dwayne Johnson on his journey to the centre of the earth.

Minghao likes to exaggerate. For comedic effect. It’s all fun and fucking games until it's true and his sleeves are almost as long as Junhui’s di-

“How are you in there? Need any help?” It’s Rogelio acting like Minghao’s been in the change room for a week and he lives here now. Rogelio is going to be tasting the carpet extremely fucking soon. Watch this space.

“Yeah, well-”

The curtains are swung back open with just as much force as the first time. Minghao is taken a-fucking-back. He didn’t even get 3 words out before _god damn_ _Rogelio_ invited himself into this safe space. His eyes look Junhui up and down for a lot longer than is acceptable. It’s almost fascinating how professional this guy is at being a dick. Minghao should be taking notes??

“Do you like it?”

“Rogelio, dude, are you having a fucking laugh? I look like I skinned clifford the big red dog.”

Some really strange silence ensues, as if Rogelio is unaware of who Clifford the Big Red Dog (a national treasure) is. A hand starts sliding across his lower back. Rogelio leans closer to him. _Excuse me-_

“I think you look great.” Strange squinty eye contact. Gears start turning. O h m y g o d.

_Ohmygod._ Sexual tension. But one sided. Is that even a thing? Minghao read that so wrong. But I mean, that’s fair enough. Junhui is really hot and he sounds even hotter on the phone. Rogelio must’ve been dripping with lust while they talked about his silky smooth Italian fabrics on call yesterday. Junhui’s voice sounds extra husky and hot with the crackle of his shitty phone connection. Bad reception is a real turn on.

Regardless of how much of a sex god Junhui is, he’s still Minghao’s boyfriend and Rogelio’s hand is on _his_ boyfriend. Minghao throws the hand off his back with his own, letting Rogelio know in the kindest of manners that _he has a frickin boyfriend_ . Hopefully frickin isn’t breaking the swearing rule. He gets a shrug and a smile back, along with a whisper of _he doesn’t have to know_ , which is the cherry on top of this shit pile they call a suit shop. How ridiculous can one man be, to fuck with Minghao who has practised Chinese Wushu since the age of 5? Sure, there’s no way to tell that from having spoken literally twice, but Minghao gives off strong Wushu master vibes and Rogelio should’ve picked up on those.

It is safe to assume Minghao has lost all conscience at this point.

He paces away from Rogelio and starts to walk right out of the suit place, a very very flustered Seungcheol trailing close behind him.

“Junhui! What the fuck-”

“Sir! The suit! Excuse me-”

“Put it on the tab bitch!”

He’s still storming into the parking lot when he realises that he has broken many of Junhui’s rules and probably disobeyed all his moral codes. Most importantly, he doesn’t have a damn car because Junhui doesn’t drive. Instead of freaking out and calling a cab this morning, he should’ve got their family driver to zoom him around. Because now he’s stuck in the asscrack of nowhere with no way to get home. So if the genie and magic carpet don’t make an unscheduled guest appearance, he is well and truly fucked.

“Junhui! Would you slow down? Christ dude, what is up with you?” Seungcheol pulls his wrist hard enough to stop and turn him so they’re face to face. Thank fucking god, Minghao had no plan as to where exactly he was storming off to.

“Listen, I know shit happened yesterday. Okay, I get it. I don’t know what you drank or did last night, but you’re seriously going fucking insane and you need to get a grip. You’re starting to act like Minghao.”

_You’re starting to act like Minghao._

Does the planet hate him or something? Because yesterday wasn’t bad enough, and swapping fucking bodies isn’t enough, so now let’s let Minghao know how much his friends hate him. And let’s make damn sure he knows that every single man that lays an eye on his boyfriend instantly wants him. This is not the regularly scheduled program he signed up for. He can barely get his next words out.

“What’s wrong with Minghao?”

There’s an ugly pause between this sentence and the next. It’s very telling.

“Nothing, but you know. He’s very... explosive. And you’re more mature. And I don’t know what’s gotten into you, but we need to get it out.” It shouldn’t hurt as much as it does. This scalding hot heat is burning inside his chest, all of his words are gone. Yeah, okay, storming out of a suit place and telling someone to _put it on the tab bitch_ is an immature thing to do. Isn’t talking shit about Minghao to his own boyfriend a little immature too?

“Dude, are you crying? What’s wrong-”

“No, I’m not. I’m not. I’ll talk to you later, Choi.” He walks back off, crossing the parking lot towards a mall in the distance, leaving Seungcheol standing there, dazed and more confused than ever.

There’s only one person that calls him by his last name. And it’s certainly not Junhui.

* * *

“Minghao? You okay?” Right outside the door, Soonyoung’s meek voice can barely be heard inside the room. Junhui really wishes he wasn’t able to. But it’s already been proven today is not his lucky day.

“Can I come in?” His voice is even softer this time, as if that was humanly possible. Junhui hums an approving hum because that’s about as much as he can muster. The list already memorised, he knows the first rule on Minghao’s list is to be nice to Soonyoung. Which seems eternities worse than any rule he gave Minghao, but he’s not exactly in the place to be complaining.

The door clicks open and in comes Kwon Soonyoung, chef extraordinaire with a big plate of pancakes in his arms. By god, this is a Christmas miracle. Junhui is so deathly intolerant to gluten, but _Minghao_ isn’t. These pancakes are going to taste like actual Jesus and Junhui is beyond ecstatic.

This seems great until Junhui realises they’re meant for Minghao. Well the joke’s on Soonyoung, because it’s secretly Junhui who’s going to be enjoying the pancakes he poured his heart and soul into.

But to him it’ll just seem like _Minghao_ is enjoying the pancakes he poured his heart and soul into. He could spit them out or something. But that’s petty and violates rule #1, and also disgusting, so he can’t really do anything but enjoy the breakfast in bed Soonyoung has brought him. And inevitably make Soonyoung happy.

So then, the joke's on Junhui? Damn it.

The bed dips and Soonyoung sits _nice and close_ to Minghao, laying the plate across his stretched out legs and smiling up at him with those mischievous eyes of his. What a slippery snake. Trying to woo his boyfriend with food. His only weakness. Hiss hiss, reptile.

“You ok?” He’s mid chew of a fat pancake piece (which is annoyingly good) so there’s a little time to plot what he’s going to say. _No being nasty to Soonyoung._

“I’m fine!” but it comes out more like ‘igm feimf’ through the pancake in his mouth. It’s an Attempt.

“Huh?”

He swallows a very uncomfortably large mound of pancake just to answer the kid. The possibility of dying a pancake induced death is very real. He’s not all that opposed.

“I’m fine!”

“Yeah, but are you and…” His sentence trails off in that annoying way people’s sentences trail off when they don’t want to talk about what they’re clearly alluding to. It makes Junhui’s eyes roll back into themselves which he’d been wanting to try since he saw Minghao do it this morning. But he goes way too hard and he has transcended dimensions and sprained his eyeballs. This earns him a whisper of _dude, what is wrong with you?_ from beside him on the bed. And well, that intelligence prize Junhui was debating over last night is surely his because you’d have to be real dumb to not connect the dots and realise Junhui and Minghao are Jelena at their low point right now.

“What makes you keep asking?” Some silence. Junhui prays Soonyoung’s mouth stays closed.

“Well…”

He was never that religious anyway.

“I mean your boyfriend just stormed into my house. Is he even your boyfriend?” Junhui goes to yell back at Soonyoung. _Of course he is. Have you seen him? Wen Junhui, god of facial structure and perfect hair. My mans._ But Minghao is really mad so it’s not likely he’d just vouch for Junhui that easy. Also he would never ever be caught dead saying ‘my mans’. They’re both lucky Junhui has some sense of self control.

“Yeah, he is. We’re just going through a rough patch.” At this he gets a scoff from Soonyoung, who moves around so he’s sitting back on his heels now, oh-so eager to hear about Minghao’s relationship troubles. It really tempts Junhui to spit the pancake back out on him, just to wipe the shit eating grin clean off his face. But the carbs in the breakfast are really pleasing his hangover and seeing as the room was spinning for a good portion of the morning, he doesn’t want to pass up anything that might make it go away. It’s mind-blowingly delicious and borderline better than sex. Why does Minghao even get jiggy with Junhui when he could be out there eating pancakes? He is suddenly far more grateful for his sex life.

“Oh, come _on_ Minghao. You act like I don’t already know everything. And you said you’d go to prom with me and not him, so it’s a little more than a rough patch.” He swallows again, hard this time. His throat hurts a little from the effect being upset has on him. Minghao really has been mad at him and he hadn’t known any better.

He also has no flippin idea what Minghao has been telling him or even why he said yes, so it’s quite possible he might be shooting himself in the foot with whatever he’s about to say, but it’s better than staying quiet and stuffing more pancake in. Even though all he wants is to stuff more pancake in.

“Junhui hadn’t asked me yet, so I just said yes.” It’s the best he can muster. Just uttering the words hurts him. Another small laugh.

“And what, you don’t think I knew that? He hasn’t spoken to you a month, at least. You said it yourself, he’s being an asshole. You deserve a lot better than that.” It’s the little way all of Soonyoung’s words mean more than they seem to that makes Junhui’s blood curl. In regards to last night, it’s quite likely we might find out who here has a better punch too.

“He’s just distracted, that’s all-”

“Hao, you don’t have to vouch for him, I know-”

“Can I use your bathroom?” The interruption is the only escape Junhui can think off that will shut Soonyoung up and still abide by rule #1. But by god, it feels like he’s touching himself when Soonyoung stops talking. Which is a gross analogy, he’ll acknowledge it. But still relevant.

Soonyoung stares back with his eyes wide and mouth a little open. It’s easy to spot the times his lips move a little in temptation of what he wants to say. He just nods instead. Hopefully this isn’t being rude or anything. Is it possible that Minghao might make an exception if Soonyoung started it? Now that’s a little childish.

He starts to make his way out of the room when he stops dead in his tracks. Flippin heck, he hasn’t the slightest clue where Soonyoung’s bathroom is.

From firsthand experience, Junhui can now feel for Hao when he complains about how hard it is to be an angsty teen. Storming out and pulling it off is no easy feat. It was extremely emasculating to have to walk back in and talk to Soonyoung when he was the one to cut him off in the first place, just to ask where he can pee. And of course Soonyoung looks utterly baffled because Minghao has peed in that exact bathroom at least one trillion times. But Junhui hasn’t. This situation is more and more aggravating by the second.  

Failure aside, storming out is kind of fun. Like riding a rollercoaster. You’re nervous and anxious but it’s still cool and you enjoy it in some sort of masochistic way. He’ll have to talk to Hao about their new-found mutual love for making a scene. And maybe masochism? Although their current troubling status may not be the perfect setting for kink exploration. He’ll file this away for another time.

In the safety of Soonyoung’s all too homely bathroom, Junhui can finally take the piss he’s been holding in since the second he woke up. Minghao has an extremely weak bladder. He rustles around the bathroom cabinets, finding some very questionable items that he chooses to ignore until he finds some pain meds for the ever-throbbing headache that feels like his own personal music festival in his head. None of the fun, all of the deafening _boom boom_ from the noise.

It’s a little, uh, how to put this- _utterly disgusting_ \- to straight up drink sink water. But he’s not really in the position to ask Soonyoung for a nice, tall glass of his Everpure Filtered Water™ so he throws the medication back quickly and tries not to dwell.

Now becomes a fantastic time for him to browse Minghao’s phone. This activity lost all its’ charm long ago after he a) realised Minghao is much lamer than he seems b) got told off for *accidentally* spending $200 on a game and c) found out that Minghao changed his lock screens right back after Junhui made them selcas of himself. Rude. He checks in on a couple of the lame phone games Minghao is so invested in. Collects all his virtual dollars, does a couple of tasks and that’s about as far as he can go without being scared he might somehow delete everything and therefore delete any love Minghao still has for Junhui. There’s still his messages to check.

_(8) New Messages_

 

_Message from: daddy <3 _

_can i tell cheol?? he wont care_

 

_Message from: homo sunbaenim(/^▽^)/_

_what time am i meeting u_

 

_also did u go home with soonyoung_

_i swear to god xu minghao_

_you will die_

_i wont hesitate bitch_

 

_Link:[youtube.com/real_housewives_of_vine](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=O4gBhg3oZb0) _

_lol_

Embarrassingly enough, Junhui is indeed saved as ‘daddy <3’ on Minghao’s phone. It’s hot for all of 3 seconds before he cringes enough for 10 lifetimes and changes it to just ‘junhui’, no capital on the J to fit Minghao’s stupid lapslock aesthetic. Loser.

Telling Seungcheol seems like an absolutely terrible idea and it’s hard to fathom in which parallel universe he ‘wouldn’t care’. First of all, flipping out and thinking his best friend has gone senile aside, Seungcheol is one douchebag of a man and would ruin Junhui’s life with no remorse. Maybe not facebook-dp-of-his-dick no remorse, but maybe like post-your-middle-school-braces-selcas no remorse. Seungcheol and Minghao are a pairing which severely lack any care, love, or consideration for Junhui. Those two would ruin his life in a heartbeat.

That is a big bag of never.

_To: junhui_

_Absolutely not Minghao. The amount of havoc you two could wreck on my life makes me pee a little just thinking about it._

He waits in the bathroom for a reply, washing his face with Soonyoung’s nice smelling soap and doing Minghao’s hair. The mirror shows him a much clearer image of Minghao than earlier. Even under the filter of a hangover, he’s breathtaking. All of his features are so sharp, perfect, precise to every measurement like an artist carved each and every one of them into marble. He spends a full 10 minutes solely dealing with Minghao’s bed head. It’s probably the shortest time Minghao has ever taken on his hair and he would attempt to stone Junhui to death if he ever found out. Even when he’s done with it he messes it up again, running his fingers through it without an end. Minghao’s chocolate brown hair is so soft, it runs like a river through Junhui’s fingers, pleasant and nice to touch. If he closes his eyes, he can see the way Minghao’s pencil stops as he draws, closing his eyes and letting his head lull back onto Junhui’s body when he runs a hand through his hair like this. As much as he swears he hates his hair being played with, he melts under Junhui’s touch every time, shoulders falling in bliss and soft hums of happiness pushing past smiling lips.

Junhui falls out of his own trance when the phone in his pocket goes off.

_From: junhui_

_dont tell me what to do_

Minghao clearly needs a little more persuasion. Which Junhui is so more than ready to give.

_To: junhui_

_Tell him and I won’t touch you for a year._

_Did you get my suit?_

_yeah i got it_

_Who’s homo sunbaenim? And what am I meant to say to them?_

_huh ?? its chan. send a screenshot_

 

Junhui complies and follows the instructions on how to text Chan back. This lapslock and weird spacing aesthetic is disgusting to execute. Junhui washes his hands 3 times before he feels cleansed of his text sins. Minghao wants Junhui to meet up with Chan and Soonyong for whatever reason. He has very strong faith in Junhui which is all well and good and quite sweet, but Junhui can’t even talk to the cashiers at the supermarket without saying yes when they ask if he wants a paper or plastic bag.

This three-way date is going to be a trainwreck. And a steaming one at that, because Soonyoung is probably upset with Minghao right at this time. And with fair reason.

Junhui has now been in the bathroom long enough for Soonyoung to safely assume that he’s taking a dump. Oh, crackers. He’s really not doing well being cool kid Minghao. Only a true loser like Junhui would lose track of his time allowance in a bathroom until he gets dangerously close to my-friend-thinks-I’m-taking-a-dump territory. This image is very hard to uphold.

He barely makes it a step into the room before Soonyoung is trying to apologise to him. His eyes look a little red, maybe even puffy, but that’s a lot more emotional problems than Junhui cares to deal with. In the end, Soonyoung is the one who asked his boyfriend to prom. Right now, Junhui wouldn’t even give him life-saving cpr (ew), let alone ask him what’s wrong. They are not on that level. Even if he is technically Minghao right now, and they’re super emotionally close or whatever.

Soonyoung would tell him anything.

Anything.

The thought of an in-depth interrogation sounds delicious right now, but this emotionally unstable time seems like a horrible occasion to ask something along the lines of _hey, you’re totally trying to cuck my boyfriend Junhui, can I ask why? And on that, how come you’ve hated him since the like, oh, I dunno, forever_? Soonyoung will probably cry if he breathes a little too quick. The emotional manipulation will have to wait.

“Don’t worry about it Soonyoung. Let’s just forget it ever happened. We’re meant to be hanging out with Chan though?” It kind of sounds like a question, like maybe Soonyoung can intervene and cancel the entire thing and Junhui can avoid making Minghao look like an absolute mud puddle.

“Dude of course, of course. Do you need to borrow clothes or something?” And god, he hates the sound of that, of Soonyoung’s clothes on Minghao’s body, touching his skin, clinging to all his edges, but what can he do? He is still in last night’s clothes. Minghao is going to prom with Soonyoung, he slept in his bed for god’s sake. Hating Soonyoung and being his best friend at the same time is giving Junhui serious whiplash.

* * *

Minghao is banned from Hill Point Shopping Mall. An incident with a mall Santa, apparently ‘Live animals are prohibited in Santa’s Snow Wonderland’ and ‘No 5 year old should have to see that’. Either way, Minghao is banned and he would get fucked up by security if anyone ever saw him. This is why this place seems like the ‘asscrack of nowhere’, Minghao hasn’t been here since the third time he got caught sneaking in. If Seungkwan gets him in his office a fourth time, he might get banned from every shopping centre in the state.

He wouldn’t even be here had he not stormed off and dealt with Rogelio a little better and piped the fuck down. But there’s a lot of things he regrets, and pissing off someone who came onto Junhui is more on the personal victories list than the fuck ups list.

Lucky for absolutely fucking everyone on this planet (except for Seungkwan), he’s Junhui right now. And Hill Point Shopping Mall is about to have it’s best day since it first opened in 1997. He has half a mind to at least make an attempt at covering Junhui’s ass, so he picks up a ‘My family is better than yours’ dad hat and plastic glasses with flames on the sides. He might keep the glasses for himself after this is over. The shop owners look worried while he stands in the aisle of the place texting back Junhui, all decked out in his disguise gear. How is it Junhui still manages to embarrass him, even when he’s not here?

A red suit is easy to spot, so Minghao turns it inside out, the suit looks black from the inner-lining and Minghao is living in 2050. This is so intellectually hot that it might actually arouse Junhui during foreplay if he brings it up. The rest of this is pure stupidity though, so really his dick might shrivel into itself instead. Terrible mental image.

He takes the time to roll up the sleeves and pant legs on the suit, so Junhui now looks like the Michelin Man but it’s better than him inevitably tripping over and somehow managing to get Junhui banned too. And yes, he might get banned from this place regardless, but not before Minghao has one last hurrah against his mortal enemy, Seungkwan.

The plan he has for the ultimate revenge gets him half hard to be honest.

He goes straight to the pet shop and he comes dangerously close to stealing all the dogs and setting them free, but he keeps his eyes on the prize.The cashier looks at him like he’s absolutely crazy and Minghao would’ve said something, were it not for the fact that it’s early midday on a Saturday and he’s buying a plastic container full of live crickets in an inside-out suit that kind of looks like he’s wearing another 50 under it. He pays and leaves and vows to never ever return.

Then again he’s banned, so, he can’t. Literally.

He knows exactly where Seungkwan’s office is and he books it there, crickets in hand and all, until he hears someone call out for Junhui. My god, he’s gonna have a lot to answer to when Junhui finds out about this encounter. Live crickets and ill-fitting suits are a little adventurous from his usual branding.

“Jun! Over here!” Waving his arms like an absolute idiot, sitting on a bench sipping some dumb smoothie Minghao would like to spit in, there he is in all his fuckboy haircut glory; Jeon Wonwoo. What are the chances? Probably extremely high. This hasn’t been his day. Y’know, swapping bodies and all that jazz.

Wonwoo walks himself right over to Junhui, just inviting himself into his Saturday lunch plans with no remorse or shame. Such an asshole. Classic eighty grand Lexus Jeon Wonwoo move.

“What are you doing here? In a suit and that hat and the glasses and- are those...grasshoppers?”

“Crickets actually. I’d love to stay and talk but, as you can see, I’m pretty busy and I need-”

“I just got off work and saw your message. Do you still wanna hang out?” For the love of Jesus, the message. He really dicked himself on that one. A Wonwoo interrogation seems like such spicy content he can’t pass up. A once-in-a-lifetime kind of thing. Hopefully anyway, Minghao doesn’t want to be Junhui forever. But this is his final chance at making Seungkwan eat shit.

“Well, I have some unfinished business to attend to before I go, so, you can come with or wait.” Wonwoo takes a little step away from Junhui, so small Minghao shouldn’t notice. To be fair this is so out of character for Junhui Wonwoo is almost stupid for not running away and calling an exorcist.

“Well, it’s not like I’ve got anything better to do. What’s this unfinished business? Does it have something to do with the crickets?” So it seems Wonwoo is an accomplice. Maybe he can flirt with Seungkwan’s office chair as a distraction or something, clearly hitting on other people’s property is his forte and Minghao always learnt that a good leader plays to the strengths of his team.

“Yes. Yes it does. The manager and I have some history of the animal kingdom kind, so I thought this could really trigger some memories of our time together. Or something like that. I just wanna scare the shi- _sugar_ , out of the guy.” Wonwoo’s eyes widen to a point that causes some worry in Minghao. Worry that he might stop and his eyes won't burst like Minghao is so secretly hoping they might.

“Ohmygodareyoutalkingaboutthe-“

“Wonwoo buddy, take a breath.”

“Oh my god, Junhui are you talking about-“ He leans in close and whispers like this is top secret information that he, a Jamba Juice employee, must guard with his life. “The Lizard Gang Incident of ‘16?”

“Wonwoo that’s literally last year. Not even a year ago. It’s April. Also, ‘Lizard Gang’? Those tiny lizard jackets didn’t have Reptile Riders hand-stitched on them for nothing.”

“So it _is_ about the Lizard Gang Incident of ‘16!”

He drags Wonwoo by the wrist towards to back of the mall where Seungkwan’s extremely familiar office is. He’s still very unsure how Wonwoo is useful to this mission but if worse comes to worse, he’ll throw the crickets at him instead of Seungkwan.

He tells Wonwoo the whole plan trusting that he’s #whipped enough to not run and tell about Junhui’s criminal activity. This plan entails smashing the window on the office door, dumping the crickets in, making a run for it and eternal glory afterwards. Wonwoo seems very alarmed throughout the whole thing but says nothing, maybe in an attempt to be a supportive friend to Junhui about his personal vendetta against the mall manager.

The worst and yet best thing about this whole ordeal is the Junhui’s body situation. He really cannot afford to get caught. Assault on the mall manager and found accomplice in the Lizard Gang Reptile Riders Incident of ‘16 is not going to look good on Junhui’s permanent record. Even though Reptile Riders is a sick name, it’s doubtful he’s gonna get points for creativity.

So he just won’t get caught. Easy. Not so easy for naive Wonwoo. Although that would be hilarious, Junhui probably won’t be giving him a celebratory fucking when he lands his friend a criminal record.

“Hey Wonwoo, you realise they’ll know who you are straight away when they check the cctv?” Wonwoo ponders this a little, like it’s just occurred to him that malls have cameras and security and assaulting the mall manager is an offence punishable by law.

“Well, you gotta live a little. When else am I gonna throw crickets at the mall manager? Those, my friend, are the high school memories that matter. Not the hours I slaved away making smoothies for soccer mums and their 80 kids.”

“You’re dumb. And absolutely crazy. And that’s a weird motive.”

“Junhui, you make a fantastic point. Give me the crickets.” Minghao does not give him the crickets.

“Have you lost your flipping mind?”

“I gotta make memories somehow. Just smash the window open and I’ll throw them in. Let me do it before I chicken out.” And so, the crickets end up in Wonwoo’s possession by the time they make it to Seungkwan’s office. He really doesn’t want to ask about it or this sudden passion for crime.

Minghao stands with his back pressed to the office door, one of his shoes in his hands ready to smash the window right open. Lucky for him, he picked the boots with some heel, so the glass is sure to shatter as long as Minghao puts a little boogie into the hit. Wonwoo stands in front of the window, crickets ready to be launched right inside. Both boys are ready to leg it as soon as they’re done. And yes, Minghao only has one shoe, but Vincent Van Gogh only had one ear and he still painted the Starry Night.

Or something like that.

A whisper of _one, two, three_ and the window shatters, Seungkwan’s shrill screech fills his ears and Minghao’s eyes are on the container just waiting for the signal to sprint.

“Oh, shit!” _Jesus Christ_.

“Wonwoo what the fu- funk!”

“WHO’S THERE!” Seungkwan shoves his back to the wall and keeps his eyes on the Jamba Juice uniform outside his office.

“I forgot to take the lid off!” Wonwoo just stands there, eyes wide and very apologetic. It almost subdues the homicidal urge Minghao is feeling right now. Almost.

“ _I’m gonna need security, my office_.”

“Are you kidding me dude!”

“ _Amateurs_.” Seungkwan mutters to himself from inside his office. If he weren’t Junhui right now, Minghao would storm right in there and staple Seungkwan’s ears to his forehead. In the timespace of that shitstorm, Wonwoo has the sense to take the lid off and throw the crickets in, which instantly start going insane and the same could be said for Seungkwan.

“The Lizard Gang Incident of ‘16! It’s you!” He yells through sobs, curling into himself against the wall. Wonwoo tugs at Minghao’s wrist to _fucking run, Junhui_ , and he snaps out of it to make sure he gets away without being banned again.

“It’s Reptile Riders, Kwannie you fool!” He yells over his shoulder as Wonwoo keeps pulling him along. This mall is definitely not smart enough to keep security at the exits and they all flock to Seungkwan’s office as Minghao had predicted they would. It’s worrying that a 17 year old boy was able to outsmart trained professionals. Then again, Minghao is a god among men and the comparison between the two is pretty unfair.

The two criminals hide in a store (Minghao takes the time to put his boot back on) and see them all run towards the office across the shopping centre. As soon as Minghao spots the last of them, he runs faster than he ever has towards the exit right next to the store and doesn’t stop until they’re well away from the premises and the parking lot and Italian Formalwear and in a happy accident, Rogelio.

Wonwoo is huffing like he’s never taken a breath in his life and he’s still learning. They sit down in a park at least 5 blocks away from the mall, neither one with enough breath to say anything. There’s plenty of adrenaline in the both of them too, and neither is composed enough to say something at least half-smart.

“Junhui, dude, I’m not gonna lie. That was awesome.”

No. It wasn’t awesome. The definition of not awesome. The antonym of awesome. No eternal glory can come from embarrassing yourself to that extent. Somehow, Seungkwan has bested him again. And this sucks. And crickets are expensive, so not only is he losing his criminal street cred but he lost Junhui some wads of green. Wonwoo doesn’t think anything of his silence. They stay quiet, sitting and trying to sedate the rush that comes from throwing live crickets at the Hill Point Shopping Mall manager.

* * *

Bus rides are extremely boring. They couldn’t take Soonyoung’s car because apparently he has bad blood with the people on that side of town and he’d be lucky if there was even a screw left of it after they were done. Chan is not in the financial position to pay for gas, which Junhui could have sponsored but of course Xu Minghao managed to talk him into letting him take the wallet, and Minghao is in the same financial boat as Chan, so public transport it is.

There’s no way to pass the time. Minghao only has lame indie music on his phone, so that’s not an option. His facebook is just as lame. Distasteful memes, local band gigs, dance routines and surprisingly, a lot of cooking videos. He’ll definitely have to force Minghao into cooking him something after this discovery. All the games on his phone are way too intense and he doesn’t even have solitaire, so that’s a bust.

He stalks the photos on his phone for a little bit but they always fall into one of 3 categories: Memes, screenshots of clothes or photos of Junhui. All of which he has already seen. But there are plenty of unreleased never-before-seen Minghao selcas, which he fully intends to print out and stick on his fridge like the proud father he is. Minghao is no doubt extremely attractive. It dawns on him that he is Minghao right now, therefore he is extremely attractive. Well, he’s extremely attractive always (duh), but Minghao is also gorgeous and it would be a pity to not take some selcas. God knows that boy doesn’t know anything about angles.

Every photo he takes looks flawless (to Junhui anyway) but he doesn’t dare to post any. That’s a one way ticket to angry Minghao Town.

He really needs to work on his comedy. At least learn what alliterations are. No one is gonna buy the Minghao thing if he can’t pull one lazy alliteration out of his ass. He struggles with onomatopoeia as it is! He’s not living up to the banter and laughs people have come to expect of the great Xu Minghao.

The top apps on the AppStore are boring as all heck, until he scrolls past that familiar flame icon. Tinder.

Now, Junhui has never used a dating app. He’s been in a relationship with Minghao probably since the age of 10. And they certainly weren’t swiping left and right on the playground at kindergarten between bites of ham and cheese sandwiches. Drunk Minghao has tried to talk Junhui into getting a dating app ‘just for the memes’, which sober Junhui has always refused. But truthfully, it would be interesting to see what other guys would have to say about his man meat.

Once he vows to never ever refer to Minghao as ‘man meat’ again, he downloads Grindr. Tinder is too str8 edgy playboy for Junhui and he wants the true gay experience. It’s very hard to finalise the picture he wants to use because they’re all hot and Junhui would have a quick jerk to any of them (and he might), but eventually he picks the one Hao took of himself in his room, sun hitting the wall behind him, collarbone only just visible past his white shirt and face all stoic and serious, but still super hot.

He sets his location to wherever the hoot it is they’re driving past to assure no gay men will just magically start showing up at Minghao’s door, as much as Minghao would love that. They’re pretty much the same height so, that question’s easy. He sets Minghao to single, for better results and also, that might be true right now. He skims over this as fast as possible.

A lot of the profile is too confusing and difficult to work and uses a lot of gay lingo Junhui does not understand. However he does understand ‘twink’ and he decides that Minghao kind of is one, especially in the photo he’s using that makes him look soft and squishy instead of punk rock and edgy. He considers putting ‘Bottom’ in the profile too, but Minghao would just yell about how he’s a power bottom and inevitably smack Junhui at the end of the rant. So that’s a no. The bio is really all that matters. He could make it a roast, but the whole point of this is to get matches, not write a diss-track, so he puts that idea aside.

**Hi! I’m Minghao. I love art, dancing, and music! I’m also a really good cook. I also have abs. Can’t wait to hear from you!**

It’s the thought that counts. Sure, it’s not the Meryl Streep of Grindr profiles, but hey, for a first attempt it’s not half bad. Even if the cooking thing is kind of a stretch. Surprisingly, he starts getting messages straight away. It’s amazing anyone could convince themselves to message this person without deciding if their life has really gone this low first.

A lot of them are dicks. Straight up, dick pics. Cocks. Penis. Peni? What’s the plural of penis? He’s never had to use penis in plural before. He gets a lot of messages which are sexual in nature. These always include the words ‘wreck’ and ‘baby’. Not even he calls Minghao ‘baby’. Should he be calling Minghao baby? Should he whisper ‘I’m gonna  f**k you hard and deep while we listen to Billy Ray Cyrus’s fourth studio album Trail of Tears?’ Should he be taking advice from ‘Ken (TOP/DOM)’ on a dating app? Who really knows anything.

He does get a few nicer messages, and these are the ones he replies to. Some people ask about dance, others ask for photos of his art and some ask for music recommendations. The wholesome content is all well and good and it restores Junhui’s faith in humanity, but the 50 shades of grey-esque messages are way funnier to read. A lot of people ask him to meet tonight at some cheap hotel. Minghao is no cheap whore and he’d take nothing less than 5 stars. The things they want to do to him would absolutely never fly and they’d get a slap before anything else.

A lot of people open with compliments, and it’s interesting to read a lot of people pick up on the same things Junhui does. The pale skin like moonlight, pretty outline of his collarbones and alluring eyes. And well, it’s no secret Minghao is really, really, _really_ attractive. He is. He’s gorgeous, breathtaking, stunning, any word under the sun you can think of, Junhui has said it.

It was weird to watch Minghao grow up, almost at a distance. Being a grade above him, he could see how Minghao got a little more popular year by year. More kids would ask to sit next to him in class, clusters of 12 year olds would approach them at lunch in hopes of getting to say one word to the legendary Xu Minghao. Girls brought him friendship bracelets, most of which he threw away, grabbed at his pale skin, all of which he’d brush off, and brought him food, which he always shared with Junhui. Maybe it was the mystery, maybe it was the challenge. Whatever it was, it became more and more obvious to Junhui just how highly contested Minghao’s affection was.

Reading all the messages just solidifies how many people _want_ Minghao, and it doesn’t feel good. His chest feels all too tight and he can’t get the amount of air he needs to breathe, _just breathe_. His eyebrows scrunch together and he takes a gulp that feels like swallowing rocks.

This uncertainty is so weird, because the world could be tearing in half and it wouldn’t matter, because Minghao would still love him. He always had. His eye-scrunch smile, child-like giggle and hand wrapped safely in Junhui’s. That’s just not there anymore, ‘I love you’s’ are followed by question marks and the worst of it is, it’s all his fault. He should’ve made the time, he should’ve replied to more messages, he should have asked Xu Minghao to prom.

He shouldn’t have taken him for granted.

And now he’s gone. If it’s not Soonyoung, it’ll be any of the girls that throw themselves at him every day, and if not it’ll be Ken from Grindr, and if not it’ll be literally anyone out there with half a mind.

Minghao isn’t his property, and sometimes it’s easy to forget they are actually different people with separate lives. Minghao’s life doesn’t revolve around Junhui and if he was unhappy, it’s no wonder he left. Junhui doesn’t even deserve to be upset. He doesn’t deserve to have talked to Minghao this morning. He didn’t deserve the second chance he had yesterday. It’s his own fault, and that’s the bottom line. He’s the reason Minghao went to sleep in Soonyoung’s bed last night.

The bus comes to a harsh stop in front of their station. The inertia is enough to hit Minghao’s face on the seat in front of him, and Junhui takes no action to stop it. The newly formed injury pounds and hurts and it aches so so bad, Junhui almost says his first curse word.

* * *

“Junhui, this is an intervention.”

“I knew I shouldn't have trusted you to order the Uber for us, Wonwoo.”

After further discussion on the instant regret that comes from committing a federal offence (Wonwoo) and finding out where to buy bees so he can fill a certain person’s locker with them (Minghao), Wonwoo decides he’s had enough self torment for one day. Minghao trusts Wonwoo when he orders them an Uber to the tailor who’s his aunty’s ex husband’s cousin once removed’s best friend’s gardener’s next door neighbour. Or something like that.

Which should’ve been a red flag because Wonwoo does not have the mental capacity to have remembered that and not pull it out of his ass on the spot. But Minghao’s desperate. It’s probable that even if he pooled together all his money (maybe even the coins Chan keeps in the cup tray of his car if he’s lucky), he’d have enough money to get one sleeve tailored to the right length. Just one. So, he’ll take any solution given to him.

He could just use Junhui’s money, and this is debatably his fault for sending Minghao to such a terrible suit place, but he’s a little bigger than that and he’s the one that needs to fix it. He really needs to make the suit look half decent before prom. Which is tonight.

Surprise god damn surprise, he’s at one of those corner clusters of strange shops that look like not a soul has breathed near them since the invention of sliced bread. No tailor to be seen. The paint is peeling off every sign and the one above him currently reads ‘eat Tha ass’ (but that’s probably more to do with snotty middle schoolers than the aging of paint).

“Be a little grateful man, I paid for that Uber too. Doesn’t Seungcheol get any blame? He organised this whole thing.” Minghao switches his glare from Wonwoo to the man of the frickin hour, Seungcheol. He looks like he’s trying his best to keep a straight face instead of bursting into hideous laughter at Wonwoo’s sob story. Which is a charitable cause, so Minghao softens his expression of anger just a little.

“Kid, you’re going through a mid-life crisis-”

“Seungcheol, I’m 18, and I promise you I have strong intentions to live past 36.”

“A quarter-life crisis.”

“I’m not having a crisis. There is no crisis!”

Wonwoo looks at him pointedly, as if it’s possible that he’s forgotten he coerced the man into his crime ring. The guy starts fidgeting and shifting his weight all over the place and Seungcheol picks up on it right after Minghao does. Questions are gonna start getting asked and by god, if Minghao is going down, he’s going down with pride. Which is the same thinking he used when he blew Junhui for the first time only after giving him a speech about how the bottom can be dominant too.

“Cheol, Wonwoo and I did some stuff at the mall, but he’s-”

“Oh, no I know. Who do you think made him wait around for an hour after his shift to catch you?”

“You motherf-”

“See! There it is again! The swearing! Crisis!”

Minghao heaves a very defeated groan, hoping to communicate that he’s over it and this no swearing rule sucks and the scam that they pulled on him sucks even more. Neither of the boys gets anything from the noise except victory. He lets out another sigh, which presents itself as an invite to Seungcheol, the apparent leader of this kidnaping, to enlighten Junhui about this crisis. He needs to stop communicating with breath.

“Look sport. You’ve been studying for that exam every second your eyes are open, and you’ve been shutting yourself out from everyone and Minghao broke it off with you.” Some silence ensues. There’s something about hearing it be said out loud that’s cutting, haunting, digging into Minghao like a hand at his throat.

“...he didn’t break up with me.” His voice comes out so small and vulnerable it twists something inside him, to have so obviously verbalised how bad it stings.

“Okay, well, say he didn’t. Either way he’s mad at you right? You guys haven’t had a fight like this since I’ve known you, and I’ve known you since the 9th grade. That’s gotta be hard on you.” Minghao doesn’t find the strength to say something. The thoughts Seungcheol is throwing at him are all too real and hurtful and they blossom inside him like brand-new bruises. He definitely didn’t end things with Junhui. He doesn’t know what’s happening between them, or what they are, but they are not broken up. Not now and not ever. He’s left a stuttering mess by the impact of every thought he’d been avoiding since last night.

“Listen dude,” Wonwoo starts from beside Seungcheol, “We’re just worried about you. All this shit with Hao happens last night, and today you’re acting crazy weird. We’re trying to look out for you.” Minghao finds his footing and comes down from the thoughts whirring around his head.

“So tell me, what are we doing at ‘eat tha ass’?”

“Oh!” Both their faces light up as they remember their original plan.

“Well, we’re actually at Great Thai Massage! Wonwoo and I though a massage could relax you, ease tension, blow off steam or something, whatever tickles your peach. We’ll pay for you, though that doesn’t include a ‘happy ending’ of any kind so you can deal with that yourself if you-”

“Oh my god, Seungcheol, please, stop talking. I’m not going in there. I don’t need any random strangers to poke me for an hour.”

Wonwoo sighs about 3 lungfuls of air, clearly deciding the crimes he committed for Junhui should warrant a better response to Great Thai Massage. “First of all, we could only afford the 40 minutes with a face mask, so don’t get so excited. We’re trying to help you out ok? Just let a hot guy push your back fat around for a little.”

“Wonwoo, I do not have back fat!”

The boys drag him in, each responsible for one arm, hauling him through the front door like a sentient bag of potatoes. As great as it is to think about some super buff hot guy who could snap Minghao in half running his hands all over Junhui, he’s definitely opposed to this idea. Go figure. This day keeps getting worse and worse.

Junhui must have it so easy, hanging out with friends that don’t give a shit about him and would never take him to get a massage like these assholes.

They’re told to sit in the waiting chairs while all the setting up is done, and Wonwoo does not waste a second. He leans over to stage whisper to Seungcheol;

“Minghao is on Grindr.”

“I am n- Minghao is not on Grindr!” Thanks to Junhui’s fantastic friends and their inability to stay in their own fucking lane, he and Wonwoo had made this discovery in the Uber. One of Junhui’s friends, Changkyun, had sent him a screenshot of what looked like Minghao on Grindr. He very much wanted to ask what the fuck Changkyun was doing on Grindr, but it doesn’t take a genius to realise he’s certainly not there to look for lasagna recipes. Minghao hasn’t ever gone near a dating app in his life, let alone thirsty Grindr. And yet there he was, advertising how much he loved cooking and art and his abs. Apparently he’s a twink now too. It’s been a day of self discovery.

It would’ve been really funny, had it been a prank. But that selca of Minghao has never seen the light of day (and for good reason too). His smirk is too wide, his eyes look uneven and his chin looks giant. There’s only one place someone could’ve gotten that photo, and only one person with the access to it.

Junhui must think he’s so funny.

A twink? For God’s sake. Minghao is so mad he doesn’t even bother messaging Junhui in rage. Verbal abuse is not exactly searching for forgiveness.

“It’s ok Jun, denial is a part of recovery.” Seungcheol quips in.

“You can’t stop this healing, broski.” Wonwoo adds right after. They’re sent into their own separate rooms and Minghao is more than pleased to find a woman greet him when he enters. Maybe today is turning around.

* * *

The two boys burst into ugly cackling as soon as they lay eyes on him. They’re all done with the massage ( _see also: 40 minutes of pure fucking heaven_ ) and gathered at the desk to pay. Neither Seungcheol or Wonwoo can stop laughing enough to explain, so Minghao just assumes the normal idiocy and goes to check his Snapchat, which opens to the front facing camera. Fucking face masks.

“What the flip!”

The two boys just laugh even harder, Wonwoo gripping his stomach and Seungcheol doubling over.

“You guys. This is not funny. My face is green!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hello !!! its 4:17 am and i just finished the final edits and everything. happy holidays happy new year, please accept my super late gift!  
> thank you so so much for reading this steaming pile of trash, i am not funny and i swear to you i almost put an its every day bro joke in there. so thanks if you somehow got through that, i love you fucking eternally  
> thank u guys so much, hope youre pumped for the next (and final!!!) instalment in this story. your bias and i love u ^-^


	3. Saturday afternoon, when Minghao wonders if Junhui will ever message him like he messages anime boys and Seokmin apologises for getting spit all over the Subway tables (again)

At least toddlers have parents to blame when they make mistakes, like crashing their toy mercedes into a hedge. In this case, Minghao is a teen boy who is blaringly responsible for his own actions, crashing his life into a hedge. Maybe a solid brick wall would be a better analogy here. They hurt a whole lot more.

It’s that time during the day when kids are eating orange slices after soccer games, friends are out getting boba and there’s a sense of peace only the comfort of a sunny Saturday afternoon could provide. Minghao on the other hand, is getting little bursts of panic like the candy that slips through a pinata and he’s just waiting for the big shit ton of sweets to hit him on the head like a stack of cinder blocks. The suit he has yet to fix is one fuck up, and the shrek cosplay he got baited into is another. In what universe can a face mask stain your face? Then again, what kind of service did he expect from a shop whose sign reads ‘eat Tha ass’.

“Jun, I swear it’s not that bad.”

“You’ve been laughing for the last ten minutes.”

“Hey, at least we didn’t have to pay!” Seungcheol pipes up from beside Wonwoo.

“I didn’t even want to come here in the first place!”

“Woah, a little ungrateful there buddy. You might wanna think twice about what you say if you wanna be invited to another boy’s spa day.” Wonwoo says as he flips through some celebrity gossip magazine, waiting for the Uber. Out the corner of his eye Minghao sees the headline ‘10 Ways To Please Your Man In And Out Of Bed’ and decides it’s his turn to laugh like an absolute fool. Until he thinks about the fact that at least Wonwoo wants to please his man, at which point he promptly shuts the fuck up.

The worst part of it all (even though it was hard to choose from so many options of all the things that had gone terribly fucking wrong today) is that he can’t fix any of this. He wanted so badly to prove to Junhui how absolutely perfectly wonderfully fine he was without him, and what a big boy he could be when Junhui wasn’t around. But of course, he had somehow managed to become the one and only Mike fucking Wazowski and now he’d have to run right back to Junhui. Who is probably having the most wonderful time of his life being a completely civil human being with Minghao’s friends.

* * *

“Hao, you’ve been in the fetal position for over ten minutes.”

“You don’t think I know that? My legs started cramping at the two minute mark.”

Not to make a High School Musical reference or anything, but Junhui doesn’t dance. He also doesn’t hold grudges, but the memory of having to reject Wonho back in middle school is one that still strikes a chord in him. Let’s just say  _ somebody _ was butt-hurt enough to publicly shame Junhui for finding Sailor Moon on his DVR the one time he slept over, and he never quite lived it down. 

Anyway, he doesn’t really involve himself in dancing of any sort. Chan and Soonyoung had been planning this for months, years even. This is Minghao’s favourite dance studio, the one that’s so difficult to take a class in because the wait list is a few centuries long. But somehow, his friends got him in. And now here is Junhui, all left feet and no coordination whatsoever, mayhaps the least deserving person of this opportunity. He feels bad for even breathing the air here.

Chan and Soonyoung refuse to believe that Minghao thinks he can’t dance, and they especially refuse to believe that he’s crouched down on the bathroom floor of this Holy Sacred Space ™ and making a terrible name for them.

There’s some movement from Junhui’s camp and the other boys are extremely excited until they realise he’s just making a grab for his phone. Right on cue, a  _ very _ handsome man’s face (Junhui might argue he looked like a model) flashes across the screen and a ringtone starts playing. 

Before he has any time to rejoice about the timing or his very attractive contact picture, a song starts blasting out of his phone. The ringtone is ‘My Neck My Back’. And the entire bathroom (which is populated full of Instagram boys making sure they get the whole bottle of product in their hair) has heard it blare through his phone. He regretfully answers the call.

_ “Junh-” _

“Minghao! Tell me why the hell your ringtone is My Neck My Back!”

_ “Listen, you have much bigger things to be worried about.” _

“Hao, you have no idea what I’m- wait, what?” 

Chan and Soonyoung stand dazed beside Minghao, who has spoken to himself in the third person twice now. And refuses to take responsibility for his own taste in ringtones, which is incredibly childish.

“What do you mean ‘You’ll see’? What the uptown funk is that?” Junhui angry whispers down the line.

_ “Okay, first of all, that song is from 2014. Stop yourself. Where are you right now?” _

“Why? Does it sound like I’m in the bathroom of a highly prestigious dance academy? Because, well, I’m not, so, I don’t know why you’d even suggest that.”

_ “Junhui. _ ”

“I’m at your favourite dance studio.”

_ “Wait, do you mean-” _

“Yes Minghao! THE dance studio! And I’m about to go into a class! Can you run me through how to dougie again?”

_ “I’m on my way. Whatever you do, do NOT step into that class. For your own sake. And stop calling me Minghao. You’re Minghao. Chan and Soonyoung are probably tripping balls. I’ll see you soon.” _

He hangs up without letting Junhui get another word in. The two other boys look like they’ve just seen a ghost. Maybe it was Jun’s soul leaving his body when he heard that ringtone. The bathroom is empty save for them, the other people attempting to create a small colony in the 3 stall amenities presumably leaving to go into class. A class Soonyoung and Chan probably really want to participate in. And he’s definitely being the biggest wet blanket of a friend, curled in a ball against white tiles, refusing to participate in the stupidly considerate surprise his friends had orchestrated for him. 

“You guys, go. I’ll be fine. Don’t worry. Mi-Junhui is coming soon, we’ll sort things out. Go do the class. For me?” He smiles up at them in the most apologetic way, accepting to risk Minghao’s visuals and look like a pathetic soggy mess of a boy. The two friends fight Junhui a little but they ultimately leave for the class, putting some warm and homely feeling in Jun’s chest that he is definitely undeserving of.

* * *

“Because, Wonwoo, last time you ordered the Uber I got roped into becoming the green lady M & M! I don’t care about your fuh-frickin rider score, okay?”

Thanks be to all deities, Minghao jets out of ‘eat Tha ass’ and is going to a place that is better, although not by much.

During his call to Junhui, it occurred to him that his mother is a seamstress extraordinaire. How else did Junhui win the halloween costume contest every single year? There was one particular Legend of Zelda costume Minghao will never stop envying. Plus, he is her son right now. She’s a generally nice lady and hopefully won’t ask about why Junhui bought an expensive Italian suit that’s 18 sizes too big or why it smells like kitty litter and dog food. Most importantly, she won’t charge him anything. Which he’s kind of banking on, because the most he could repay her with is manual labour, and heaven knows Junhui is as capable of physical activity as a pizza box.

Junhui comes from a close knit family. They’re all perfectly homely and normally functioning. Which makes Minghao sweat bricks at the thought of his mom breaching a subject he really doesn’t want to talk about. His little brother and dad will most probably be out doing something athletic and wholesome, so he won’t even have anyone to deflect onto. If she starts asking about  _ ‘all his female peers and why doesn’t he talk to Nayoung from down the street and oh when is Minghao your totally platonic friend coming over?’ _ he might spew. Junhui’s mother knows very well about he and Junhui’s relationship. Whether she chooses to forget about it is a separate topic. 

“We love your mom! Please?” They two boys beg from inside the Uber as Minghao makes his way to the gate.

“You will  _ not _ blow this for me, Choi. Stay in the car.”

Junhui’s house is amazingly large and grand and he has to wait to be  _ buzzed in.  _ If his little brother was here he’d have to spend a half hour trying to guess the secret password to enter his own home, but lucky for him it’s just his mom inside. He finds her in the kitchen, waltzing into the room in his horrendous maroon suit and praying he doesn’t make her have some sort of attack.

“Junhui! How are y- what happened to your face? And what is that you’re wearing?” She stares at him with all the signs of concern, brows furrowed, leaning closer to inspect her son and putting all cooking utensils down. Which means she must be serious. The regret of making this decision begins to creep in.

“I don’t wanna talk about the face thing. Please. And, well, you see, there was a mix up with the suit for prom, and this is the only suit they-”

“Prom? You never said anything to your poor mother about prom, Junhui. Do you have a date?” She stares at him with intense worry, that is most definitely too much when the topic is prom. Although Minghao can kind of relate. As he has come to learn, prom is very intense.

“Well, I’m not too sure yet. I might ask Minghao, but I’d be  _ extremely _ lucky if he was to say yes.”

“Junhui, I’m serious. What about that Momo girl from down the street? She’s perfectly lovely, and her mother tells me she just broke up with her boyfriend. Perfect timing, right?” She stares at him, only filled with the best intent, and it rips into Minghao to remember that she asked him to ‘be serious’ when discussing the two going to prom together. He almost feels bad for the words he knows will inevitably come out of his mouth a lot harsher than intended. 

“I’m serious too, mom. I want to go with Minghao.” They’re both too stubborn to break the silence that falls between them now. She stares at him, unphased and waiting for him to scramble and retract his statement, to pick up the pieces and paint the picture she wants to see. It’s his mom who gives in first.

“Junhui, either way, I won’t be letting you outside the house looking like that. Where are your clothes anyway?”

Back at Italian  _ fucking _ formalwear. God damn it.

“Give me that thing. I can try to fix it by tonight. But no promises boy! You are so irresponsible. The day of, Junhui! Are you trying to give your poor mother a heart attack?” He’s beaming now, the stale conversation forgotten in favour of things working out for once today. He gushes thank you’s and appreciation as he rushes up to Junhui’s room. Which is exactly the disaster zone he left it in this morning. Clothes are everywhere, bed unmade and hair products scattered across the desk.

He settles on Junhui’s Adidas tracksuit, which is both hot and practical for the next activity of the day. His literal favourite dance studio of all time that Chan and Soonyoung had wanted to surprise him with. Even if he’s Junhui, he will go to that damn class if it’s the last thing he does. He reasons that a little dance practise would serve him well, with Junhui’s  _ dimensions _ and what not. A whisper of  _ five, six, seven, eight _ and he goes into a quick routine he threw together recently with Soonyoung. To no one’s surprise, he manages to kick the bed with the same toe as this morning and somehow hit his arm against the wardrobe with more vigour than he has shown ever before in his life.  _ Fuck, _ he angrily whispers to himself, like this will change how absolutely shit Junhui is at dancing. He can barely reach his knees when stretching over, and that’s more than worrying for someone who likes to sprinkle a couple of flips into routines just for the lols. He keeps stretching for a little while until the most basic moves he knows look halfway decent in the mirror. It’ll have to do. It’s not his fault Junhui is a slob who never stretches because he has no goals or intentions to ever do the man splits.

Junhui’s mirror takes up the better portion of his back wall. It is fucking humongus, for lack of a better word. And fuck, he looks really hot. The addition of the hat makes Junhui looks like a fuckboy and Minghao knows he would never dress himself like this, which makes the vision a little sweeter. He pulls the jacket open to reveal a white tank beneath, his skinny arms drowning in fabric that pools at the stretch of skin where his neck and shoulder meet. Pulling the shirt a little higher than where it sits at his hips puts Junhui’s stomach on display, and the thrill of seeing something that feels like it’s not for him to see is delicious, and it pounds through Minghao’s veins in this moment. He finds his balance again, latches onto a new train of thought and convinces his hand to lay across the splay of skin he’s allowed himself to see. He lets his head lull back, eyes shutting as he pulls in jagged breaths. His heartbeat pounds through him, full of adrenaline and resonating in his ears. The feeling is what it must be like to scoop a cloud into your palm. Junhui’s stomach is soft, softer than the prettiest of teddy bears and smoother than the finest of silks. His mouth hangs open now, not at the tingle from his own touch but the way Junhui’s melanin seems to seep into every groove on his fingertips. He traces shapes onto the canvas beneath him, blazing trails of want and ecstasy in the form of raised lines that follow where his fingernails scratch lightly. Junhui’s hip bones, jutted out and jagged, the only edges in an expanse of soft curves and delicate shapes. A mountain range where bones should be, an artwork Minghao hasn’t indulged in for far too long. Every dip is a detail he holds onto, smoothing his fingers over every shadow until his waistline is mapped to near perfection in his mind. That’s as much as he allows himself. Before it’s crashing back, and Junhui specifically said he wanted hands off. His mother is waiting downstairs. His friends outside the gates. And Junhui beyond them. There’s no time to sit here and get drunk with the wonder of Junhui. 

His mom sees him out with a pinch of the ear, a warm smile and a promise to turn the suit into an actual suit and not a blanket with arm and leg holes. 

He makes it out of the in-law’s house unscathed, in some strange twist of fate. This was probably his only stroke of luck for today considering how sizeable it was. It’s all downhill from here again.

* * *

“Minghao!”

“Junhui!”

It’s a pretty funny concept that technically, each person called their own name. Like Donkey in Shrek when they’re at the dinner table and everyone is yelling someone’s name and he just wants to feel accepted. Very much like that situation.

“Why the hell are you on the bathroom floor? You look... very sad.” Now completely full of judgment and extremely aware of the fact that he’s on the bathroom floor like some girl in a teenage highschool movie, Junhui stands up straight, eyes meeting with the boy across from him.

“Oh, what the fu-”

“Jesus Christ Minghao! What did you do!”

“Your face is black!”

“Yours is green!”

They both stare at each other, dumbfounded with what they see. Each painted a different colour from when they’d last seen each other. Junhui stares into his own face, chasing the clear outline of soft green that paints itself on his face. Minghao focuses in on the big splotch of faint black that outlines his left eye, looking like some form of death slowly spreading through him. Junhui is more on the surprised side but Minghao has always been the one to jump the gun, brows creasing together and holding there like a frown will make the bruise go away.

“Junhui, what did you do to my face?” He spits the words out, making sure to include every bit of anger that bubbles up within him. Junhui stares back in absolute shock that a black eye has made Minghao so angry with him so quickly. 

“I’m sorry, it was an accident. I was on the bus and I hit the seat in front of me.” The response is straightforward and calm, so much so that it riles Minghao up to think Junhui isn’t nearly as outraged as he is. 

“Oh, and what, I’m meant to believe that? I’m meant to believe you just let yourself do that?” Minghao’s feet take a few steps forward, hands gesturing harshly and trying to convey the emotions he can’t find words for. Junhui retreats in panic, back hitting the wall with a dull sound that resonates amongst the white tiles. He considers telling Minghao about what exactly was going through his head on that bus, but he decides that maybe now is not the best time to tell him about how terrible he’d been feeling.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean-”

“It doesn’t matter how sorry you are! I have an audition on Monday, Jun! Which you would know if you had bothered to speak to me! What am I going to do now? I can’t just fix a black eye! At least this will, I dunno, wash off, god knows how long I’ll have to walk around with that thing!” Junhui takes a moment to calm the anger that’s started to bubble up inside of him, because it’s an ugly thing he doesn’t ever want Minghao to see, even when he’s being screamed at. The only sound is Minghao’s heavy breathing, proof of the toll anger takes on this new body. Junhui’s palms start to sweat, a nervous habit of Minghao’s. Then there’s footsteps, Minghao making his way to the door. 

“I don’t know what I did to deserve this, I really don’t, Minghao. I gave you a black eye, I’m sorry, but you’re not the only one that’s upset here. You’re going to prom with Soonyoung, you slept in his bed for god’s sake and this morning I have to sit there and listen to all the crap you’ve said about me to him! You realise I have to deal with all of this? Don’t you think I should be the one getting so angry? Don’t you think I’m angry? I’m trying to tone it down, for you, but I’m done trying. You can’t just keep ignoring all the bad things that have happened to me too. You just snap at me, all the time, like I'm the only one that's done something wrong! We’re both having a really bad time as it is, I don’t need you to yell at me every time I do something. I’ve apologised to you so many times, what more do you want from me? I’m trying Minghao. I’m trying. I just want us to get past this, tell me if you want that too.” Sometime during his speech, hot tears start running down his cheeks. A few to begin with, then by the dozen, all playing a game of tag to see which one can roll off his jaw first. Then the sobbing follows, the kind that makes you haul air into your lungs like it might run out, heaving your chest in a way that makes you choke around the wailing you can’t help. And for absolute sure, the whole studio has heard it. Well, they definitely hear it when the door opens and Minghao lets himself out. Junhui takes this as his answer.

The crying only gets more violent then. No matter how hard he breathes, no air makes it in and he’s gasping for his life every time. White tiles fade in and out of focus as he grabs at the floor, anything to hold him to reality.

Earthquakes wreck through him with every strained noise he finds himself making, with no tears left to cry and hiccuping sobs being the only thing he has to show for every feeling that rips through his head.

He could count the times he’s seen Minghao cry on one hand. But never like this. With so much power behind each sob and so much feeling every time he chokes on the tears that won’t come. He’s never seen Minghao cry like this. 

* * *

The class seems really enjoyable. Everyone is sweating and chasing after just one breath, but they all smile as the instructor goes on. Minghao’s throat hurts so bad with the strain it takes to not cry, replaying Jun’s words in his head over and over. His vision fades to white at the edges from staring up into the lights on the ceiling, doing his best to keep everything at bay. He stays at the back, well away from Soonyoung and Chan and the million questions they could hold for him. Well away from anyone asking why his face is green or why his eyes are red. The instructor’s voice carves itself into every thought Minghao has, helping him to ignore everything that just happened. The physical exertion from dancing is a familiar sort of pain that Minghao likes. The feeling he’s addicted to, and comes back to when things don’t go so well. In an ocean of the discomfort that he keeps finding himself in today, dancing and sweating so much feels like swimming to the surface, and expelling all the sea water out of his lungs. 

Miracles like that don’t happen to everyday people, and he knows the class will have to come to an end soon, as will the comfort it gives him. It still hits him like a train when everyone starts clapping, exchanging words of wonder and praise. 

Because as soon as the class is over, his ears ring with the volume at which he yelled at Jun, and his palms ache from the memory of the force he used to slam the door on him. Shame paints itself across him in big, sloppy, accusatory lines. He’s always hated the person his own anger turns him into.

He's only ever heard Jun so upset at other things, when he's serving as the one that keeps him grounded, the diary Jun can fill with all his anger and sadness until he starts feeling better. But now the words are directed at him, Jun is upset with him, and it's ever so obvious when he lays it all out with straight-forward words. It cuts into Minghao to know he's the reason Junhui is upset, that his actions are doing something other than making him happy. That he's doing a terrible job at treating him well, and a fantastic job at being a shitty boyfriend. Finally being slapped in the face by the effect of his stupid actions is a wake-up call drumming into Minghao's ears until they ring, and the pain is blood-curdling. 

He walks to the bathroom now, suddenly very aware of how nauseous he feels, and he might just be sick on the studio floor in front of everyone right now. Uncertainty with Jun is such uncharted territory, just the thought of him being mad at Minghao makes it feel like the world is crumbling around him.  A little piece of Minghao just hopes and prays that Junhui is still in there, but he probably doesn’t deserve to see him again anyway. 

A part of him still nags at the back of his mind about all the missed calls and cancelled dates, which have nothing to do with prom or Soonyoung, or anything Minghao's done. The other half of his anger with Jun he hasn't spoken about since the outburst yesterday. But he figures patience is a virtue, and baby steps are what's going to fix this. There's a lot for the two of them to sort through right now, and anything is progress from their current state. 

Either way, after yelling at Jun he figures he's more in the position to apologise than pick yet another fight. But then again, none of this can silence that little voice that continues to nag. Dwelling on this mixes him up a little, maybe more than he'd like to admit. 

He’s right where he left him, Junhui’s shoulders working themselves up and down like tired old pistons in a way Minghao is very familiar with. He must’ve been crying really hard. Sobbing always takes it out of him, and it’s almost a sport to get your breath back. 

He doesn’t think about it twice, because if he does the words won’t be right, and he really needs to say something. He’s given it no thought at all, but maybe it's for the best to just let his words out unfiltered. But he needs the words to come out absolutely perfect. How does Junhui manage to do that every time? It’s a fuck-load harder than he lets on.

“I’m sorry, Jun.” The boy doesn’t move an inch. He could’ve stopped then and there, decided Jun didn’t want to hear this and leave. But he keeps talking anyway, because he’s selfish and completely certain that he’d never get it off his conscience if he didn’t say what he needed to. 

“I worked really hard for that audition, I just really want it to go well. But after hearing you say everything, I realise I’ve been such a brat to you. I feel like a kid, I really do. No, I feel stupid. I’m sorry for being such a big idiot. This day has been so weird and such bad timing, I’m sorry I haven’t been any help. I’m sorry for making you put up with me. But thanks for doing it.” Junhui stays quiet for a while, but at least he’s not crying anymore, which Minghao takes as a small win.

“Can I ask you something?” Junhui mumbles from the floor, voice fragile from the sobbing. 

“Yeah, of course.” Junhui pauses for a little, unsure if this is a conversation he wants to start or even an answer he wants to hear. Something deep inside him pushes the words out before he has the time to decide.

“Why did you say yes to him?” Junhui’s eyes finally come up to meet the other boy in front of him. The sight of his face all red and bruised twists something in Minghao that threatens to make him fall to the floor with how bad it hurts. The words come out quick and honest, because Minghao thinks that’s the absolute least he could do for Junhui right now.

“I don’t know, Jun, I’m just an idiot. I was mad that you hadn’t asked me, and everything about Wonwoo, and I just wanted to get back at you. Which sucks, I know, but it’s the truth.” Minghao barely has it in him to feel like any worse of a person at this point.

“But, you don’t have any feelings for Soonyoung?” Now their eyes meet and there’s something unsettling about it all. For the first time in a long time, Minghao can’t quite read Junhui’s expression.

“No Jun, of course not. It was just me doing stupid things to get back at you. I’m sorry I couldn’t just get over myself and talk to you about it.”

It’s in this moment that a realisation hits Minghao like a big truck full of rocks and cement and an assortment of other heavy things that would absolutely wind him if said truck had actually hit him. He never had any intention of going to prom with Soonyoung, of course he didn’t. His intentions were only to get back at Junhui, and truthfully the desperation of feeling so neglected fueled every mistake he made last night.

If anything, Soonyoung and Junhui are very similar. So forgiving of all of Minghao’s mistakes, so willing to put up with him and for some reason, still by his side after all his fuck ups.

He decides Soonyoung deserves an apology, and writes himself a mental note to make this one extra good, to account for how extra shit he’d treated him.

Junhui’s lip stops quivering and though he still looks shaken, maybe now there’s a little hint of serenity to him. Maybe the blatant reassurance did more for him than either expected. But something still hangs in the air, and Minghao thinks maybe now is a good time to sort out all of this weird you're-in-love-with-your-best-friend bullshit they'd somehow gotten themselves into.

“You don’t have feelings for Wonwoo, do you? I mean, I don’t really think you do, but-”

“No, I don’t. The only person I have any feelings for is you.” There’s a small smile on Junhui’s face and even though Minghao only sees his own face smiling up at him, he takes comfort in knowing it’s all Junhui’s feelings behind it.

The younger of the two stretches his arms out and hauls the other onto his feet, the two finally eye-to-eye and able to take in each other's features, green stains and bruises included. 

“So, Xu Minghao,” he grabs both the other boy’s hands and hold them tight, to make sure he knows just how much he means these next words.

“Will you go to prom with me?” Minghao smiles the sweetest of smiles, and he can do nothing to help the way his heart swells at these words. Finally hearing the only thing he’d been aching for all these months.

“I’d love to.” And they stay like this, silent and chests full of those happy feelings only they can give each other, finally content for the first time today.

* * *

They head to the one place they could all agree on, full of sentimental value and high school memories; the Subway at the mall across from school.

This is where they used to hang out as shit stains back when they were freshmen. And although the graffiti on the walls didn’t last forever (and neither did the couple’s whose names were mentioned), the memories sure did. Sometimes the managers would call the school if they caught students ditching, but this group always got away with it. And as much as the franchise owner wouldn’t admit it, he was quite fond of them. He would always insist that he hadn’t slipped them an extra cookie, even though the receipts (actual, literal, paper receipts) said otherwise.

This subway is as much a part of their high school experience as Jihoon getting shoved into a locker that one time. 

Classic.

It’s here they find themselves on what one could call the epitome of bittersweet. With the seniors graduating in what will definitely be too soon, their group will never be the same. Hell, Soonyoung is applying to some crazy dance school in Japan, Jihoon is going away to pursue music, and piece by piece, the (Subway) cookie crumbles.

Not all of them are here, because even they know that’s a hell of an eyesore. Only those that are sad enough to spend the hours leading up to prom sitting around a Subway that has the general aesthetic of an unwashed urinal are here. 

Seungcheol sits with his arm around Jeonghan, Han’s hand smoothing the fabric of Cheol’s  jeans over and over again, just for the gain of being connected in some way. Chan and Soonyoung are playing with their food. Sometimes Minghao thinks Chan will never catch onto the way Soonyoung looks at him with so much love and warmth. Sometimes he thinks that’s for the better. Seokmin takes great pleasure in laughing at Jun’s black eye. And by the law of nature, Seokmin’s laugh is the most contagious thing known to man, so it doesn’t take long for both to be in fits of laughter, getting one word out suddenly the hardest task in the world. 

His friends, albeit not all of them, gathered around the only table that can fit them all. Forever pretending things can stay the same. 

“What are you doing!” Junhui shouts and smacks the food out of Minghao’s hand as soon as he sits next to him. Minghao’s Subway goes flying out of his hand and skids across the floor, probably giving the tiles the best clean they’ve seen since opening day. He stares back at Junhui in absolute disbelief only to be met with raised eyebrows that might just become part of his hairline if they keep going like this. There’s this big stupid smile on Junhui’s face that he’s trying to hold back, which tells Minghao he thinks this is just as funny. 

“What was that for?” The giggles are hard to hold back, and even Junhui knows Minghao will burst out laughing at any second, but this stupid charade is maybe the sweetest moment they’ve shared today, and he’d like to hold onto that thank you very much.

“ _ Junhui _ , may I remind you, you’re allergic to gluten.” The way the corners of his mouth tilt up gives the whole act away, but even so he continues on with confidence, leaning closer into Minghao’s face to make his point.

“Yes  _ Minghao _ , but you’re not. That sandwich could’ve been yours, but it probably has three kinds of diseases by now. Sandwich murderer.”

“Jun, don’t be too upset. I’m sure there’s another twelve inches you can shove down his throat.” It’s Jeonghan’s last addition to the conversation that finally makes them burst out in laughter, smacking the very undeserving table as they laugh in absolute histerity. Their friends laugh just as hard, and soon enough they’re a big stupid mess of laughing teenage boys. It’s all fun and games until Seokmin’s juice gets knocked to the floor, and then it’s really game over.

* * *

They’ve been angry whispering for the past five minutes. The table is absolutely oblivious to all of it in favour of finding out how many Subway brownies Seokmin can fit in his mouth. And even though it’s an even eight and a half every time, the table of idiots still watches on as though the Mona Lisa is being painted before their eyes.

_ “He already hates me! It won’t change anything!” _

_ “Junhui, having me as you tell him we’re not going to prom together is as good an idea as when we pelted Yugyeom with expired mints on the last day of school. Be a man!” _

_ “First of all, Minghao, stop imposing gender roles on me. Also, that was funny. Also, I can’t do it! What do I even say!” _

_ “Just tell him you’re really sorry and we sorted stuff out! As long as you sound apologetic it’ll be fine. Please Jun!” _

_ “No!” _

_ “Jun!” _

_ “Hao!” _

It’s at this moment that they become aware of Jeonghan staring at them from across the table, the only buffoon with an IQ higher than 2 that wasn’t interested in slobbery brownies. He pretends to have never been looking in the first place and is suddenly so very interested in the label on his iced tea. The two boys compose themselves, Minghao accenting his final statement with a kick to the leg under the table.

“I’ll see you in the car. You better say something.”

Surprise surprise, Seokmin fits eight and a half brownies in his mouth. They’re all quite devastated about not breaking the record, and it honestly might have just ruined prom altogether. They decide that this is a good place to end their melancholy visit to Subway.

Minghao blasts to the car and Junhui doesn’t chase after him, even though Minghao runs faster out of the two and he could’ve beat him to the car. Junhui’s family driver doesn’t hesitate to lock Minghao out of the car when asked to, and Hao can only rejoice in the little perks of swapping bodies. He and the driver both laugh as Junhui pulls at the door handles in desperation. When he tries for the 30th time and the doors don’t flick open, he sighs loud enough for them to hear inside the car (at which the driver chuckles) and Junhui finally stalks off to find Soonyoung. 

He doesn’t even have to say anything to Soonyoung. Their eyes meet across the lot and they do that awkward smile thing when you’re both so painfully aware things are about to go to shit and you’re bracing yourself before the whole ship sinks. Soonyoung isn’t an idiot. Didn’t miss how they’d walked out of the dance studio with their hands intertwined, or the way Minghao had flicked Junhui’s arm while waiting in line just because he wanted Jun’s attention.

Soonyoung knows better.

He walks over to Junhui as though his shoulders are especially fond of gravity today as they tug towards the floor, hunched over in what could only be described as defeat. Junhui can only hope he himself doesn’t start crying. It’s a wonder Minghao doesn’t burst into tears when someone drops Spaghetti Wednesday lunch at the cafeteria considering how sensitive he seems to be.

They’re face to face now, but not eye to eye because Minghao is notably taller than the other boy. But he’s perfect eye-level for Junhui. Slots perfectly into his arms, lays his chin on Juhui’s shoulder like that’s what they were both meant for. Perfect for eachother.

“I’m sorry.” He’s not sure what else to say next, because although he can deal with how terrible Minghao can be at times, he’s not sure how saying all that to Soonyoung would go. Junhui doesn’t think Soonyoung wants to hear about being used for Minghao’s personal gain. 

“It’s okay, Hao. I knew. In some way. I knew.” And he looks so apologetic, so hurt, but still so so in love with what he sees, that the idea of just going to prom with the guy crosses his mind. Only for a split second or so. 

And he gets it. He truly, truly does. He gets being in love with Minghao, because he’s in love with him too. His every detail, the way his chest heaves when he’s dancing, or the way his hair falls into his eyes and pulls it back once again, hoping that maybe this time, just this time, it won’t fall right back over his eyes. But it always does.

Minghao is what Junhui thinks of when he hears the word perfect. Not himself. He’s far from it. But he is perfect for Minghao. He knows exactly what he wants to eat when it’s 10pm on a Friday, or what he wants to watch when it’s 9am on a Sunday. He knows the words that’ll come out his mouth before anyone else hears them, and he knows when he plays with the bottom of his shirt that he just needs his hand held for a little while. 

And that’s why he’s the one Minghao loves. It doesn’t matter who loves him, because he loves Junhui. And there’s nothing else to be said there.

“I’m really sorry, Soonyoung.” He looks at what must be a mirror image of himself; tears threatening to make themselves known and ragged breathing that sounds all too forced.

“It’s okay.” He can barely hear Soonyoung’s response. It’s hard to catch when he looks at the floor, paying all his attention to the little bits of gravel he kicks around with his foot there in the Subway parking lot.

“We can still be friends, right?” He pulls his best smile right out of his ass and it’s nothing award winning, but it’s the best he can do for Soonyoung right now. And his best will just have to do. 

“Yeah, yeah.” Soonyoung’s blue sweater reaches up to wipe under his nose, fragile and small like Junhui might not notice it. “Of course.” And he’s returning that same smile to Junhui, the smile of someone who wants to do their best for the other person. It would seem all is forgiven. 

For both of the boys.

“I did have another date lined up, just in case this happened.” Junhui’s mouth hangs open in what is easily the worst acting to have ever graced anyone and all actors should be offended. But Soonyoung has no complaints and just laughs that sunshine laugh instead.

“We’re friends! We’re going as friends. You guys have never met him, his name’s Seungkwan. Friend of a friend, he’s really funny.” The eye smile that punctuates this sentence assures Junhui that he’s truly okay, and he’s quick to let Soonyoung know that he can’t wait to meet Seungkwan. He seems absolutely lovely.

* * *

“Why?”

“Because Junnie, it’s bad luck to see the bride! Go way!”

“Minghao, we’re taking the same car.”

“I know you can’t see me, but I’m scowling. I just want you to know that.”

The first stop on their grand tour was Junhui’s house. Junhui thinks it’s because Minghao is obsessed with Junhui’s visuals and he’s probably living out some strange dream fantasy through all of this. Minghao knows it’s because Junhui might not have a suit and they only have an hour until Party Land closes, so he needs all the time he can get to change a Power Rangers costume into something reminiscent of a tux.

Maybe he should start putting more faith in people. The suit looks fucking fantastic and Junhui looks like sex on legs (more than usual anyway). He’s nervous for Junhui to see the full shebang but also recognises that if he doesn’t leave the room soon that big ass mirror is going to hypnotise him into another Junhui’s Body-Is-A-Temple worship sesh.

Junhui is absolutely speechless as Minghao makes his way down the stairs like some sort of Cinderella moment. Junhui looks amazing in that suit he picked out. Man, even though it was last minute and he didn’t even check on it, he’d really managed to pick out a fantastic suit. And with such ease too. 

“About time, we still have to get to Bambam’s.”

“You can’t rush perfection, Junhui.”

Minghao really tries his best to hide it. But god, let it be known that going to prom with Junhui makes Minghao the happiest man alive. And Junhui is still in some ensemble Soonyoung had thrown together this morning, so it hasn’t fully sunk in that they’re going. His smile isn’t ear to ear quite yet, but his eyes are starting to scrunch and he can feel the tingling in his stomach when they get in the back of a sleek black limousine, courtesy of Junhui’s rich ass parents.

Bambam’s is one big mess of yelling, products for anything and everything covering all surfaces and a large selection of very stressed girls in gorgeous prom dresses. The struggles of a talented makeup artist on prom day. And in the midst of it all, tha man himself, Bambam. Yugyeom is stood to the side of the madness, sipping a chocolate shake and scrolling through his phone, miraculously managing to remain unphased by the girl wailing in the corner because a pin came out of her hair and now prom is absolutely ruined.

“Bambam!” Minghao can barely be heard over the clientele, but a silver head of hair peeks up and bursts into violent fits of laughter when he lays eyes on the pair. Yugyeom looks over and now the two are laughing at the ugliness of their faces in this current state.

“Holy shit, what  _ happened _ to you two?” Yugyeom is still laughing as he makes his way over to the two, flopping some hair out of the way to really take in the grand scale of their fuck ups. Bambam shoos away the girl sitting in front of him and beacons them over. Junhui, a peasant with perfect skin and non-existent pores stares at all the makeup before him like he’s never seen a beauty blender and discovering them is a life-changing experience. Minghao talks to Bambam as he beats Minghao’s own face about which products he’s going to use, his preferred brand of brushes and  _ oh my god is that the new palette from that make-up artist I’ve been dying to get my hands on?  _

“I never knew you were into makeup Jun, I thought that was more Minghao’s thing.” Minghao’s stomach almost falls out of his ass when he realises he’s been raving about Kat Von D’s liquid lipstick formula as Junhui, who would struggle to tell you the difference between a glitter and shimmer eyeshadow. Thankfully Bambam doesn’t say anything else on the topic, and the two continue to discuss their top 3 primers. 

Minghao decides that this is an opportunity he’s not going to receive again soon (or so he hopes) and asks Bambam to do just a little bit of his makeup. Staring at his own face in the third person so intensely is off-putting to say the least. Has his nose alway been that weird? Why did no one tell him he has bug eyes? It’s nice to know he has no real friends.

Though it’s pretty weird at first, the experience of applying eyeshadow on himself is almost therapeutic. He appreciates being able to do his own makeup with this perspective and thinks to himself that he did a better job than usual. 

Junhui sits still while Minghao works at his face with soft brushes and delicate touches. The nape of his neck tingles a little when he gives away to the sensation, and he can almost feel himself melting under the touch. As he listens to Bambam and Minghao talk, he still doesn’t understand why they use the word sister when there are no women in the situation, but he knows better than to question the slang Minghao uses. And apparently it’s ironic now anyway, or so Minghao tells him.

Bambam is a certified makeup artist and it comes as no surprise that he’s able to make them look like they got facetune in real life, not a trace of either of their mistakes from today. Junhui is absolutely blown away and whispers to Minghao that he doesn’t understand the science of makeup, at which he giggles just a little. He pulls at his skin, much to Bambam’s dismay, and is overall very excited about having a full face on. Ridiculous, considering how much he complains when Minghao begs to just put a little winged eyeliner on him. Will that boy ever listen?

“Stay out of trouble you two! And don’t fornicate on the dance floor, the rest of the world would appreciate it.” Yugyeom calls as the pair make their way out.

“Tell that to your boyfriend!” Minghao barely manages to yell out before Junhui ushers him outside and smacks him on the shoulder.

“He’s not my boyfriend!” Bambam and Yugyeom both reply in unison, sighs and sounds of frustration following.

* * *

Junhui knows exactly how to put on a suit, every edge to fold and which expenses to smooth out. He takes all the liberty to roll his head to every angle and shift his weight between his legs to get a nice look at Minghao. Minghao slides each sleeve over his thin arms, sneaking a look up to catch Junhui taking in the mirror in front of them. Junhui pulls it tight over his small frame and Minghao adjusts the hems to ensure they lay right where they’re meant to. Junhui, ever so capable (or so he thinks) and Minghao, forever a lone wolf. Somehow blind to how much they need each other, just how intertwined they are. Perhaps so much so, it’s second nature to them.

Minghao lets himself close his eyes, his arms wrapping themselves around the waist in front of him. He doesn’t care who’s who, or exactly who’s hands are on who’s skin, he just needs to feel close to Junhui. Just needs to assert physically the conclusion he’s come to mentally; he could never truly let Junhui go. And Jun just lets him cling on, his head coming back to rest on the boy behind him. 

Finally, a breath of relief for both. Acceptance that this is the way things are, and the way they will always be. No Wonwoo or Soonyoung or prom of any kind can change that.

“This suit smells like ass.” Those are the words Minghao chooses to break the silence. Needless to say, Junhui laughs and tries to sputter into his hand, which doesn’t make it in time and now there’s little flecks of spit all over Minghao’s mirror.

“Okay, thanks! Who’s fault is that!” Minghao unsloths himself from around Junhui to sigh a very loud sigh and thoroughly enjoy the lighter mood that’s suddenly taken over them.

“I’d take that over anything from Italian Formalwear, dude. Any day.”

“What do you mean? It’s a great suit, look at you! Look at me!”

“Oh my god, Junnie, if you knew-”

“Well, tell me!”

His smile drops.

“Maybe later Junnie.”

He decides maybe it’s best to just let some things go. 

* * *

Inevitably so, they take a very gross prom picture for Minghao’s overly excited mother, who grins from side to side as she watches them fight.

“Junhui, I’m taller than you! Just-”

“On what planet? Stop trying to fight-”

“Oh my god Junhui, unbelievable. I knew! I knew your alph-”

“If you call me an alpha male one more time Minghao, I swear!”

She finds it funny that they’re fighting over who stands at the front, and not who stands at the back. Junhui thought he’d be real slick and just slide himself to the front, hoping Minghao just might forget they magically swapped bodies this morning and not realise he’s still Junhui, who would be standing behind Minghao. Somehow Minghao catches on and they’re pulling at each other with so much intent one would be surprised neither has been thrown to the floor yet. 

“You’re younger than me!”

“You’re hotter than me!”

“What?”

“Boys, why don’t we take two photos and call it a day?” Neither are happy with the boring climax to their battle of who’s-more-manly but somewhat at peace with this half victory. Junhui pinches Minghao’s waist when it’s his turn to stand behind him and all he gets is an elbow to the stomach, but it’s so worth when he hears Minghao complain. He barely feels the hit anyway, Minghao’s rock solid abs absorb most of the shock like he’s Thor or something. Is it strange that realising how strong Minghao is kind of makes Jun a little hot and bothered? Because if it is, Minghao’s toned body does nothing for him.

(But if it’s not, Jun has the cockiest smirk on his face and he holds onto Minghaos waist tight until he squirms, just because he can. No wonder Minghao is always poking at him, this is fantastic entertainment.)

“You think it’s so funny, but we’ll see who’s laughing when you look like a stepped on pizza slice in all the photos. Dumb ass.”

Jun can’t see, but Minghao is smiling just as wide. Maybe it’s because Jun can’t see that he indulges himself in just how sweet the teasing is. Every squeeze and poke sends jolts of energy to that spot on his body and it’s kind of exhilarating, just waiting for the next one. As much as Jun complains when Minghao does it, he wouldn’t be surprised if he enjoys it just as much as Minghao is. 

“Okay, can I get one of you two kissing? Just a quick one, for mom!” Both boys stop dead in their tracks.

“Absolutely not.”

“I’d rather we didn’t.”

She looks a little disappointed, but mostly like these were the reactions she was expecting. 

“Come on, you hate it now, but ten years down the line you’ll look back on these and be glad you took them!” Both boys are still in absolute shock, eyes wide and jaws on the floor. They’ve never been reserved with their pda, especially not under Minghao’s roof. This reaction is pretty left-field. In fact, they probably would’ve been the ones to ask for some stupid picture of Junhui in Minghao’s arms all bridal style (Or Minghao in Junhui’s arms, depending on who’s masculinity is more fragile that day), but today of all days, they’d rather not lay a finger on each other.

“We really can’t.” Minghao stands up for them, knowing Junhui is too polite and stupid to remember he’s Minghao right now to say anything back to his mom.

“What has gotten into you two? Come on now, just a quick one two-”

“Seungcheol? Yeah hi bud, we’re almost- oh you’re here? We’ll be out in a sec. Okay, see ya. Bye.” Junhui moves his phone from his face back in his pocket. Minghao is a little confused, seeing as their limo had been waiting outside the whole time, but when he realises what’s happening he starts to snicker a little. Jun's lucky he's always awkward around his mom, because if any of his friends were around they would've been way too suspicious of his use of 'bud'. 

“That was Seungcheol, our ride’s here. Thanks mom! Bye!” Junhui grabs the other boy’s arm and practically drags him in his state of shock out the house. He tries his best not to listen to Minghao’s mom’s pleading, because he’s gonna start feeling extremely bad for that stunt he just pulled if he does.

“Your phone was open to Mystic Messenger the whole time just then. Prank of the year, Wen Junhui. Logan Paul is quaking.” Minghao takes the liberty to roast the boy as he’s dragged through his own house to the limo waiting on the curb. There’s a silly little smile on his face, because it’s so unlike Junhui to do something like that. It’s very endearing, although it probably shouldn’t be. Something has certainly gotten into Junhui. Something about this day has brought out his rebellious streak, and Minghao could certainly get used to this.

“Shut up, I didn’t see  _ you _ doing anything about it. Did you  _ want _ to kiss yourself or what?” Jun mutters as they haul themselves into the limo, Seungcheol and Jeonghan staring at the lover’s quarrel. 

“Back to their old selves, it seems.”

“We’ve been normal the whole day!”

“I breathed.” Seungcheol just laughs at them both, taking this as more proof of his original point. 

“Anyway, Jun how do I change the music in here? It’s time to bump some Twice-”

“Jeonghan, you had Wee Woo at full volume on your phone the whole way here. Do we have to?” Seungcheol sulks in his best please-give-in-just-this-once-Jeonghan voice. It never works.

“Tsk, no respect for real music. Everyone rise for the national anthem!” Junhui plugs Jeonghan into the limo and now Likey is so loud Minghao thinks everyone in his neighbourhood has become a Once. But they all know the dance anyway, so they make like fools and pretend to have the centre part, all extremely enthusiastic when the dancing is extra cringey. 

The limo gives Minghao some time to think, which is never really a good thing. Although he and Junhui had cleaned up some of the mess they'd made within the past few hours, there are things from months ago that Minghao still thinks about. They leave a bad taste in his mouth. Worse than that, he knows these things need to be resolved, because as much as it hurts him to think of losing Junhui, they can't keep pretending everything is so perfect and they're perfect when they're anything but. 

He finds some sort of comfort in the finality of thinking today will be the day. He'll decide, whether it really has been the toll of Junhui's senior year, or if they're not as made for each other as they think they are. 

Seriously considering all of this for the first time since this mess started makes his whole stomach flood with muddy anxiety, and he decides he's very much done thinking about all of this for now. Until they get to prom, that is.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hello !! i'm so so so SO impossibly sorry for the long update time :( i just want to make sure im putting out the best writing i can (which at times takes me re-writing that fight/apology scene 4 times)
> 
> im also sorry this chapter is so much angstier than the last ones, but i hope you enjoyed it nonetheless ;)
> 
> anyway thank you for your patience, for supporting what i love and for giving this story your time ! i hope youre enjoying it thus far. i know i said this would be 3 parts, but fret not, part 4 (prom !) is on its way! 
> 
> please leave a comment, let me know if you liked it, hate it, dont give a fuck about it, whatever it may be! comments always make my day and put a smile on my face, i always do my best to reply to everything ! (also, if u've ever left a comment, just know i adore u <3)
> 
> thank you for reading and for your support, look forward to the 4th and *final* instalment of this series!


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